


Fifty Shades Of Secrets

by daxiana



Category: 50 Shades of Grey - E. L. James
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-09
Updated: 2013-03-31
Packaged: 2017-11-28 18:25:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 16
Words: 43,637
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/677457
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/daxiana/pseuds/daxiana
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>AU. Christian Grey is getting more and more stressed with a business deal, and is looking for a release. He sees Ana in the hotel bar and gets an idea on how to finally blow off some steam. Only he doesn’t want for her to know who he really is, going by a different name. Little does he know, Ana is looking for the same thing. Takes place in Paris. Ana is OOC, having a different background. Christian Grey is the same we all know and love.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Je Ne Sais Quoi

Je Ne Sais Quoi

Disclaimer - All the rights to the wonderful world of Fifty Shades Trilogy belongs to E.L. James. I do not own any of the characters from the trilogy. No copyright infringement intended. 

Christian was beat after the long hours spent in the negotiations. The stress caused by this deal was rapidly reaching the highest level. He was already in Paris for two weeks, one week too long in his opinion, and this fucking deal wasn’t anywhere near the closing point. Ross kept asking him if he wished for her to come, but then who would hold the reins at GEH. She was the only other person who he trusted managing his company. Besides, she wouldn’t be of much help here, as the Taiwanese considered negotiations with a woman to be beneath themselves. These motherfuckers proved to be brutal adversaries in a conference room. Fucking cocksuckers… refusing to speak in any other language besides their own. They had a whole team of translators, though it was clear that they were able to understand English perfectly fine. It was just another strategy to demonstrate domination over the situation, and Christian was perfectly aware of that. 

Despite everything, he knew that he had to just suck it up and keep trying to close this deal. The Taiwanese company was the perfect choice for what he had in mind and he will stop at nothing in order to acquire it. After all, he was a man of means. Still, too much compromises Christian made. On top of it all, he had to agree to a joint-venture with the Germans and the French for the Taiwanese to even consider dealing with Grey. This particular company was not particularly fond of Americans. He would have to make sure to get complete control over the company after the deal was done. Christian Grey DID. NOT. SHARE. 

Right now, he was a ball of tension, having passed through an array of emotions in the past twenty minutes. He was angry, annoyed and tired. He desperately needed a release and he was feeling the control slowly slipping away. He knew all too well what kind of release he would like, but he didn’t know any BDSM clubs here in Paris, and he wasn’t going to ask for help from Elena. She would have a field day on his behalf. The formidable Christian Grey, not capable to contract a small shipping company…Oh how the mighty have fallen! He could hear her laugh and mocking words and he did not need to become more riled up. To be honest, any fuck would be good right now, submissive or not. 

Christian stopped pacing the hotel room, realizing the sun has set and the twinkle from the city lights below were lightening the room. He exited the bedroom of the penthouse and picked up the phone to order some room service. He wasn’t very hungry, but it wasn’t in his nature to skip dinner, or any meal for that matter.

After half an hour the knock alerted Christian to the arrival of his food, an employee entering the room, dragging a cart. He set the tray on the dining table and asked Christian if he would like a glass of wine. 

Distracted by the thick stack of spreadsheets he was currently revising, Christian accepted the wine and dismissed the hotel employee. Christian ate his dinner, paying little to no attention to the way the food tasted and finishing two glasses of wine with his dinner. 

Sighing, Christian pinched the bridge of his nose and rubbed his eyes using the thumb and forefinger of his left hand. He was tired of this shitty deal. He was tired of this fucking hotel and of this fucking city. He realized he was actually homesick, but the things he missed the most were the control and routine of his week days and the simplicity of dominating a pretty little brunette on some weekends. Routine was beneficial, it made him feel in absolute control. 

No more fucking daydreaming. He had to get out of these four walls and get a stronger drink. He almost never felt the need for human companionship, however now, his wandering thoughts and his inability to speed up the closing of the deal made him feel lonely and he needed a distraction.

He decided to go to the hotel bar. It wasn’t too late, the clock barely struck nine o’clock and Christian figured that by eleven he would be back in the room and go to sleep, since he had a breakfast meeting with the Germans. Not that he would get much sleep, for he knew that with all these emotions bubbling inside him, the nightmares were only going to get worse tonight.

Yeah Grey…go downstairs and order some scotch or some bourbon…get the most secluded table and watch the people…at least you’ll stop thinking all this shit. God, I think I need a session with Flynn, or better yet – a session with a pretty little brunette who will listen to my every command.

He told Taylor that he would be at the bar downstairs and he won’t need him for the rest of the night.

Christian entered the hotel bar and made a beeline for the bartender, requesting a glass of scotch, for starters. He chose the most secluded table in a dark corner, not far from the bar. After taking a sip from his highly overpriced drink, he started to check out the other patrons. The bar was nearly empty, considering it was not only Wednesday, but this was a five-star hotel bar, with a price range to match. The only clients would either stay at the hotel, or be too lazy to find another bar nearby. 

Searching the small crowd, Christian’s eyes fell on the only dweller of the bar. She was perched on a high stool, nursing a Cosmopolitan. Her brown hair fell down on her shoulders, reaching her waist. Her hair seemed untamable, somewhere between loose curls and full waves, but Christian could tell that it was soft to the touch.

Hmm…I would like to wrap that hair in my hand while pounding hard into her from the behind…. Christian’s eyes continued the descent on her body. She was wearing a simple fitted silver blouse that hugged her waist and emphasized her breasts. I bet those firm tits would fit perfectly in my hands…

Her shirt was paired with a simple black crayon skirt that reached her knees. A perfect round ass…I would like to see if pink suits it. I wonder if underneath that skirt I would find a garter…what color her underwear would be?

Next, he was mesmerized by the way her creamy white calves would clamp because of her movements. She was watching the news, turned away from where Christian stood and slightly swaying one foot. Taught, lean muscles…I bet she works out a lot. I would fucking love to have those calves around my neck…Shit! Get a grip Grey, you can’t even see her face! Come on honey…stop watching the TV. Let me see your face. I bet it’s just as beautiful as the rest of your body. 

Her whole attire, from the silver shirt to the black pumps, as well as the office bag perched on the stool besides her, told Christian that see was doing the same thing as him. Looking for a drink and a way out from the daily, mundane business existence. 

Her phone, put near her tall glass, beeped and she finally turned around to see the message. Christian could finally see her face, lit by the phone’s screen. She’s not too beautiful, but she has a kind face that reminds me of Grace. Hmmm…perfectly arched eyebrows, long black eyelashes, small nose, plump lips. Round pale face….just the perfect shade of skin. Symmetric features, but nothing out of the ordinary. Common beauty, yes, that’s it. Now if only I could see her eyes. Come on honey, look up. 

Sensing eyes on her, she looked in the direction of Christian, only for three seconds. But the short eye contact was enough for Christian to see the most beautiful shade of blue he has ever seen. Big blue eyes…between baby blue and stormy blue…with small flecks of gold around the iris that sparkle in the light…and the blue becomes almost green towards the extremities…The pupils are encompassed by a thin dark green line…fucking amazing!

Suddenly, Christian wanted to gaze into her eyes one more time, just to feel the same electricity he felt when their eyes met. I could look into those eyes a lifetime.

Christian chuckled quietly, realizing that it was indeed too long since he had a sexual release. That and the stress caused by this deal formed a dangerous combination for Christian. God Grey…you’ve gone mad…you’re pathetic and disgusting. Leave the poor woman be.

But, as much as he tried switching his attention on anything else, his gaze kept coming back on her. He took some more sips of his scotch, while watching her movements. For some reason, he wanted to remember every little detail about her, from the way she kept shaking her right wrist, rattling her bracelet, to the way she kept pushing her hair to her back with those small nearly white hands and to the way she kept swirling around her drink. He was attracted by her actions, bewitched by her small movements. She made every move with grace, in a truly unpretentious way. Yes, that’s what it was.  
She had that je ne sais quoi , that made her interesting and appealing. SHE WAS REAL. Like she was confident about her actions and she didn’t care what people thought of her.

When she crossed her legs and started to slowly move her fingers up and down the stem of the glass, Christian was instantly rock hard. Fuck….A distraction indeed.


	2. Game Over

Game Over

Disclaimer - All the rights to the wonderful world of Fifty Shades Trilogy belongs to E.L. James. I do not own any of the characters from the trilogy. No copyright infringement intended.

Christian Grey sat another full ten minutes watching the woman in front of him playing with her now empty glass. She kept watching the news reports, typing on her phone from time to time. She seemed bored and she didn’t seem to be interested in anything or anyone surrounding her. So she’s not here to be picked up or pick up. Maybe she’s waiting for someone? 

After five more minutes of watching and fantasizing about her, Christian decided one thing: he wanted her. And what Christian Grey wants, Christian Grey gets. 

The only problem is that he didn’t know how to approach her. It wasn’t that he lacked the confidence or the means to make her want him, but that he never did something like this. His sexual relations were limited to the ones common in a BDSM lifestyle. He didn’t pick up a woman before. That’s just too…ordinary for Christian Grey. I must be really bored.

He knew he was charming enough and good looking enough for any woman to want to go to bed with him. And God knows he was rich enough. And in that moment, a full realization hitched the breath in his throat: he never had a woman that didn’t want also his money. Except for Elena…but that was entirely another story. She was after him…and that meant all of him. She never wanted money, but she wanted his all…she wanted…no, needed to control him in any way. But now that she couldn’t have him…she wanted his money. She needed him to be a part owner of her salons…So yeah. Christian Grey never had a woman that wasn’t also after his money.

He wondered how it would be to have a woman that would want him only for…him. Not for his last name or for his fortune. And suddenly an idea tethered to his mind. The distraction he needed. He will play a little game with the small brunette. He had to keep his name to himself. He won’t introduce himself to her. He will have her for only one night.

A one-night stand. Christian felt almost giddy, captivated with his little game, spurred by the new challenge. With that in mind, Christian downed the rest of his scotch and made his way towards the bar. He approached the place where she was sitting like a lion stalking his prey and with an easy grace. 

After two seconds of waiting to see her reaction (there was none), he cleared his throat and spoke:

“The British and the French never seem to see eye to eye, mm?” he said, referring to a news report about the European Parliament.

The woman turned her head towards Christian, offering a tight, but polite smile and then turned once again towards the television.

What the fuck? She barely gave me the time of her day. Maybe I should quit while I’m ahead…NO!

Christian stood there, her back to him, raking his brain for something to start a conversation. Oh, this was embarrassing. Christian Grey was not used to make efforts to gain a woman attention. During this time, he noticed her phone vibrating on the counter, repeatedly. 

“Excuse me, Miss, but your phone is vibrating.”

The woman turned and checked her phone, offering a half smile to Christian and said “Oh, thank you but it’s just work emails. I’ll deal with them in the morning”.

And Christian smiled broadly at the woman, sensing his opening. After all, work was something he knew all too well.

“Yeah…I know how it is to get non-stop emails. So…what do you do?”

“Usually business” the woman said with a mischievous glint in her eyes.

So that’s how you want to play…Christian thought, but asked “Are you here on a business trip?”

“No, I had a meeting earlier here at the restaurant and thought to get a drink before returning to the apartment”

“So you’re French? “ Christian asked, with a tint of surprise, as he couldn’t detect a hint of accent.

The woman chuckled and gave him a mysterious answer. “I’m not French per say….I’m living temporarily here in Paris. Work related. ” she finished softly, briefly casting her eyes downwards.

Christian was now confused, but intrigued. “So then….where are you from?”

The woman closed off…pursing her lips in a tight line. She seemed…offended. What did I say?

“I’m sorry, I didn’t catch your name, mister….” She said

“I didn’t offer it. “Christian replied.

She seemed to get more riled up and angry because of him and started to turn around. Christian was about to miss his chance so he had to think fast…Keep up with the plan. Don’t give her your name idiot….She’s going to be a one night stand…No NDA, no nothing….But then…what’s going to be my name? I can’t possibly invent a new persona right here on the spot. But I can always use the familiar…after all I’m not looking for more than a few hours with her. And he won’t find out. Ever.

With an inward mischievous smirk, Christian replied “I’m sorry….I didn’t mean to be rude. My name is….Elliot. Elliot Grey.” 

“Nice to meet you, Mr. Grey. I’m Ana.”

“Just Ana?”

“Yes, Ana ….Just” the woman replied with a smirk.

God, that smart mouth….And she’s pretty confident in your presence…that’s a first for you Grey. Christian laughed a little, feeling further more intrigued by the woman and the way she didn’t seem to melt in his presence, like all the others. 

“So Ana, where do you reside permanently then?”

“I actually travel a lot”, Ana said, avoiding the answer expertly.

It’s like she’s avoiding my questions on purpose….maybe that’s exactly what she’s doing. But why?

Seeing that he won’t get anywhere, Christian took a step back and recalculated his strategy. He suddenly didn’t know if he was playing his game or being played. 

“Can I get you another drink?” he asked, always the gentleman, motioning towards her now empty cocktail glass.

“No, thank you. A friend is going to pick me up in a few minutes, actually.”

Fuck, fuck, fuck! The game will be over when I say it’s over.

“Oh, I understand. If you need a ride, I can take you. It’s not a problem.” Yeah, real smooth…

Ana sank her teeth on her bottom lip, appearing to mule the idea over.

“No, I’m good. Thank you though” she replied chuckling.

Oh god…I REALLY want to bite that lip…fucking sexy…and it seems I’m not going anywhere with her.

“No problem. The offer stands if your friend doesn’t show up. Or better yet, you can spend the night in my room. I have the top floor penthouse, so I have an empty guest room.” Christian said with his panty-dropping grin.

Ana blushed and then flushed a little, cleared her throat and glancing at her phone, said with a convincing tone “I don’t think that it will work for me, sir, seeing as my friend arrived. Thank you for your company. Have a good night”. She took her phone and grabbed her bag so fast that Christian nearly got whiplash. 

So…that’s how Christian Grey, hotshot CEO, got completely blown off by a small woman, barely 5’10. He stood there for a moment, with his hand still on her glass, bewildered. Oh, fuck me. Well…instead of using only Elliott’s name, maybe I should have picked up some of his moves too.


	3. The Deal

The Deal (Don’t Ask Questions)

Disclaimer - All the rights to the wonderful world of Fifty Shades Trilogy belongs to E.L. James. I do not own any of the characters from the trilogy. No copyright infringement intended.

The next day, Christian returned from his morning meeting feeling even more frustrated and angry. He spent the most part of last night thinking about the woman in the bar and, after finally managing to fall asleep, he woke up after about three hours of sleep from a horrible nightmare. 

He was angry with her. He was angry because she blew him off like that. And he was angry because he didn’t like nor understand this feelings. He tried to rationalize everything, replaying each word of their conversation and analyzing every gesture she made. He didn’t know how to deal with this feelings and emotions she elicited and he refrained from calling Flynn, dreading the explanations and conversation. He wasn’t looking for any revelation or epiphany.

 

He just wanted to get back being his old self. She intrigued him with her casual and sharp conversation skills. And she fascinated him with her way of acting around him. It was like he didn’t affect her in any way.

She managed to charm him in their short conversation with her direct manner and her witty remarks. He was shocked when he realized that she was the first woman to act normal around him, besides his mother and sister. He kept flirting with her and she managed to dodge every attempt of his with a clever and brisk remark. She darted from his questions in a very shrewd way and any other man would be sidetracked by her answers. But Christian knew she chose to hide the truth and he wondered why. 

He was angry that he failed this whole pick up thing. He never failed before, as he never liked discovering things he wasn’t good at. And he was fucking angry because she refused him. But Christian couldn’t help to feel a little enthralled with her, also, because of that. 

She was the first woman to refuse him. And she was the first woman apparently immune to his looks and charms and enquiry. The first woman not intimidated by his demeanor. And if she was even a little attracted to him, she did not show it. A lot of firsts, Grey…

Christian realized that he wasn’t attracted only to her physique anymore, but her behavior as well. Sure, he still wanted to fuck her into next Sunday, but he also wanted to be around her, getting to know her and talking to her. He wanted, at the same time, to punish her and praise her for that smart mouth.

And these feelings turned Christian’s anger towards himself. He was angry for letting her get to him, angry for starting this whole thing and angry for losing his control. Every time he closed his eyes he would see her beautiful eyes and her smug smile and her pink lips.

He was confused and tense. He tried to push these thoughts away, tried to bury in his work, but he failed to concentrate.

And to top it all, this morning he found out that the Taiwanese pushed the Friday afternoon meeting to Monday, claiming a pause on the negotiations during the weekend. What the fuck was he supposed to do now?

 

The past two days proved to be very frustrating for Ana. She barely got any sleep, because every time she closed her eyes she saw those silver eyes looking at her.

She couldn’t believe her eyes when she saw what beautiful creature was talking with her. The moment she turned to him and their eyes met, her breathing hitched and she had to force down a gasp. It took nearly all of her control to turn her attention back to the television.

She felt eyes on her earlier in the evening and she glanced in the general direction of those eyes, but she couldn’t see who it was. She pushed back her suspicions, blaming it on her general paranoia. Was it him? He was watching her?

The man was a true Greek god, but she was determined not to let him see that he affected her. The truth was, that actually, she was scared of him. She had a feeling he would be the one to take all of her control in a second. And she couldn’t and wouldn’t allow it.

She realized that he tried to pick her up, probably being just another bored businessman looking for a distraction, but he wasn’t very good at it. Like, he was counting only on his looks to get a woman to drop her panties. And he probably succeeded often. She had no doubt about it. But that was not who she was. 

Sure, he was tall and sexy, with a body that most would kill to have. He had amazing dark copper hair, slightly disarrayed, silver eyes that seemed to see the depths of your soul and plump lips. A wicked glint in his eyes and an impish smirk, that completed the whole bad boy looks. 

She was VERY affected by him, it’s true. But she wouldn’t let him see that, the smug bastard. In fact, she was determined to decline him. He was probably talking to her because she was the only single woman in this bar, anyway. 

He really started to get on her nerves with all those questions and that demanding look on his face. Like, he was the master of the universe or something. Anastasia hated personal questions and the enraged spark in his eyes and the way his jaw tightened at her answers amused her greatly. 

 

He would probably make any other woman tremble and kneel in front of him with only a look, but Anastasia was not like most women. His authoritative and self-righteous way did not make her tremble. Anastasia knew terrifying, and he was anything but to her.

She truly enjoyed to cross him and to make him mad, it was entertaining, but when he gave her that panty-dropping grin she nearly forgot how to breathe. She knew she had to get the fuck out of there before losing her wit.

So she did, her fight or flight instinct on high alert. She couldn’t wrap her mind around the fact that he was the only person that managed to break through her otherwise cool, collected and distant manner. 

She wanted him, badly, like she never wanted anything in her life before. She sensed he was bad news, but couldn’t get over her yearning.

She never wanted anybody like that before. Not even HIM, but she couldn’t get down that memory lane again.

Her thoughts were consumed with gray eyes and his deep, gruff voice. It was impossible and ridiculous to be affected like that by a complete stranger. She couldn’t lose her head. Not now, when everything was finally better.

But, in the past two days, she often found herself thinking about this man (Elliot, was it?) and it was starting to affect her work, her judgment, her coherence, her keen sense of observation, her everything. And it annoyed the hell out of her that she couldn’t push him out of her mind. 

So, by Friday afternoon, she made a decision. She will have him. She had to have him. To purge him out of her system, to get over her infatuation and to get her wit and sense back, so she could get on with her life and her job.

Friday evening came and found Anastasia at the same bar as the other night, with a drink in front of her, perched on the very same stool. She had a deal to close with this man and she was determined to win.

She wasn’t very good at this whole seduction thing and she surely never found herself in this position before. Men and sex and love and romances were simply not for her. She was cold and calculated and nothing or anyone could undermine her conduct. Not even this gray-eyed stranger. He was just a fluke and she will get over him fast.

Therefore, she would see this as any other deal, and she made sure to prepare for it accordingly. She wore her knee-length plum dress, which hugged her body in a perfect way and emphasized the right parts. She paid extra attention to the underwear, choosing a nice, sexy deep red matching set, with lace see-through bra and boy shorts with a delicate pattern. She wore her favorite black Louboutins, which made her legs look longer and slenderer. She wore, as per usual, little to no makeup, just a touch of eyeliner and mascara and some pink lip-gloss. Her hair was styled in loose curls, which took Ana forever to achieve with her otherwise wild and messy hair.

She didn’t know if the man was still here in Paris, but she had to try. She wasn’t here to play any games. She was here to propose him a deal, beneficial for both of them. 

By the time Anastasia was at her third Cosmopolitan, the man finally appeared in the doorway, shoulders slightly hunched and messed up hair. He made his way to the bar and ordered a double scotch, not even bothering to cast his eyes on anyone. He seemed tired and stressed.

He took his drink and made his way towards a table in the far left end of the room, near the windows. Anastasia took another sip of her drink and, with a deep breath, made her way to the man.

Before she approached the stranger, who was currently looking to the traffic outside with a sullen gaze, she took a moment to repeat her speech and collect her thoughts. She squared her shoulders, straightened her back and trained her features to fall in her usual mask. 

“What makes this night so special that it warrants a double scotch?” she asked with a small smile playing in the corner of her mouth.

The man turned and looked at her with surprise, which he managed to rapidly conceal, in its place a small knowing smile appearing.

“And to what do I owe this pleasure, Miss Ana Just?” Christian asked, eyes sparkling with amusement, motioning to the empty chair, inviting Ana to take a seat.

“Thank you”. Ana took the seat letting a small sigh. “I’m here to propose a deal, a verbal contract, if you want”.

Christian’s eyebrows shot up, getting more intrigued by the second. “What sort of deal?” he asked carefully, getting in his CEO persona.

“I want to take you up on that offer and give you what you were looking for the other night” Ana said with an even voice.

Christian let a small chuckle and took a sip of his drink before asking “And what do you think I was looking for?”

Ana let a huff and raked her hand through her hair, before responding with a slight blush “We both know what it is you were looking for, so let’s not pretend you don’t know what I’m talking about”.

Christian said nothing, waiting for the woman to make her next move. After a while, Ana continued.

“For some reason, I can’t stop thinking about you. And it has to stop. So the deal is that I’m going to say yes to you, just for one night. You can have me, just for one night.”

Christian took another sip and appeared to mule what she said in his head. With a lazy smile he asked “What’s the catch?”

Ana let out a small giggle before answering. “You don’t get to ask questions. I won’t either. I’m not looking to get to know you. So no matter what, you will refrain from asking any type of questions.”

If he thought he was intrigued by this woman before, now he was plain spellbound. 

“And what makes you think I want you? “ he asked.

“You don’t?”

“I do”. 

Christian did want her. But he sensed something was amiss and he wasn’t sure what. She wasn’t married, seeing as it was no ring on her finger. Maybe she had a boyfriend or maybe she was just divorced and had children and she wasn’t looking for anything serious. But, after all, wasn’t he looking for some fun, no strings attached, too? 

“I just have one question. What’s your real name? It’s not fair I don’t get to know yours, but you know mine.”

Anastasia took a moment and regarded him suspiciously. She took a small sip of her cocktail and bit her lip, while thinking about whether to give him her real name or not. 

“Anastasia….Anastasia Steele” she said in a small, unsure voice, before clearing her throat.

“Well then, Miss Steele, shall we move this party upstairs?” Christian asked with a husky voice.

 

They both downed theirs drinks, before getting up. Christian took Ana’s hand and led her to the elevators. He seemed impatient waiting for the contraption to come down. Once the elevator arrived with a small ping, they got on it. Christian pushed the corresponding button for his penthouse apartment and slid his key card through the slot for the machine to begin moving.

Once the door closed, the sexual tension seemed to sizzle throughout the small space. Ana took a small breath, which caught in her throat when Christian approached and used his thumb to pull her bottom lip from her teeth. 

Christian’s eyes were almost black, his pupils being so enlarged that they took nearly any available space. Ana’s breathing began to come out in short bursts, her chest rising with every inhalation.

Suddenly, Christian pounced on her, pushing her back in the nearby elevator wall, plunging his tongue deep in her throat. They began kissing frantically, Christian touching every exposed piece of skin with one hand, while with the other he seized her wrists above her head. 

His tongue explored her mouth, licking every crevice and dipping in every corner. Ana felt like she couldn’t breathe properly, but she wasn’t going to stop this sweet torture for nothing. 

The elevator announced its arrival and Christian let go of Ana swiftly, taking her hand again and practically dragging her to his door.

Once they were inside, they both took mouthfuls of air, regulating their breathing.


	4. The Tryst

The Tryst

Disclaimer - All the rights to the wonderful world of Fifty Shades Trilogy belongs to E.L. James. I do not own any of the characters from the trilogy. No copyright infringement intended.

Christian’s POV

As I’m trying to catch my breath, I glance at the woman beside me. She blushes when she catches my gaze. I find that incredibly arousing, she seems so tough, but I know that underneath that cold exterior she is actually very innocent and sweet. I caught glimpses of her true self from the first time I saw her. She is just wearing a mask, like everyone else. That thought makes me sad. What happened to her that she decided not to let the world to see her true self?

Normally, I would have been put off by her direct manner, but her choice of dealing with the matter at hand is incredibly endearing. She managed to keep her voice even and her blush under control, but she had a slight tremor in her hands. She knows how to hide it well, but I’m better.

What the hell am I doing? Am I about to take to bed a woman I just met two nights ago in a bar? How fucking cliché is that? I must have lost my mind, but for some reason…refusing Anastasia seemed impossible. I want her. A lot. I want to see her flush when coming, I want to see her writhing beneath me, I want to see if she tastes as good as her mouth tastes. I want to make her scream my name. Speaking of which…I must maintain my ruse. Incognito mode activated. 

I take the few steps that separate us and lift her chin. She is still breathing hard and she bites her lip again, while looking at me through her lashes. I groan at that picture and her gaze turns smoldering. I am so fucking hard I think my pants may burst from the seams.

I pin her to the wall next to the door and kiss her. She tastes so sweet, like spring and summer rain together. I cannot get enough of her. 

Her lips are so soft and gentle. I slowly lick the seam of her lips and she parts them with a sigh. I dip my tongue inside and taste her in long, leisurely licks. She drops her purse on a nearby chair and raises her hands and I freeze for a moment, thinking she’s going to touch me, but she pins my head in her hands, gently tugging the strands at the nape of my neck.

I groaned at the wonderful sensation and I switched the angle, deepening our kiss. I wanted more of her and I was so damn turned on, my erection was almost painful. I cupped the curve of her buttocks, making her fold her leg around my waist and I pushed my hips forward, making her feel my erection.

She gasped and tilted her head back. I took the opportunity to taste her ever further, with gentle kisses and nibbles along her jaw and neck. 

I pushed back from the wall, sliding my other arm around her thigh, gently coaxing her to wrap her other leg around my waist. The contact of our feverish groins made me hiss in pleasure and it spurred my desire. I began, slowly, the trek towards the dimly lit master bedroom, without breaking the kiss even for a second.

I let go of her in front of the bed and she stops when her calves reach it. She breaks the kiss and looks down, blushing. “It has been a long time since…I’m not very experimented”, she says.

Oh baby, it doesn’t matter. I will rock your world, I will ruin you for other men. 

‘It’s okay”, I say.

“I just thought you should know.”

“Then you should know that I don’t make love. I fuck. Hard.” I say with a growl.

She gasps and her pupils dilate even more. Yes, baby, I’m turning you on.

I step forward and reach to the back of her dress, lowering the zipper. I slowly push her dress until it pools at her feet and I step back to look at her. I stifle a groan when I see her deep red matching set. I can see her nipples being hard beneath the lace, her perky breasts rising up and down in tone with her breaths. My gaze lowers over her taut stomach and I nearly come when I see her lacey red boy shorts that barely cover her glistening pussy. The contrast between her milky skin and the red lingerie hit me, making me want to spank her until I reach the same shade. I was right about her body. She has lean, taut muscles and not a place on her body that it isn’t well toned. But all this doesn’t make her seem any less more feminine. Her perfect proportions are curvy in all the right places. 

I reach out and cup one of her breasts, seeing how it perfectly fits my hand. I roll one of her nipple between my fingers and she whimpers. I take her hand and help her step out of her pumps, tilting her head to give her a lingering kiss.

“Lay on the bed. On your back” I say to her while taking off my jacket and loosening my tie. 

She looks at me for a second before doing what I said. Good at following orders, I see.

Hovering over her, with one knee on the bed, I trail kisses on her neck while unclasping her bra. After disposing of it I take a moment to look at her breasts. Her alabaster skin glistens in the soft light of the bedroom and I can’t resist the urge to taste her. I slowly lick the space between her breasts before moving to suck on her right nipple. She cries out when I catch it between my teeth.

I pull my tie and prop it on the mattress near her. While unbuttoning my shirt I say to her “I’m going to have to tie your hands. I don’t like being touched”.

She sucks in a breath and looks at me with apprehension in her eyes. She is about to say something, but her gaze falls on my now bare chest and she closes her mouth. She looks with an impassible glance at me, then smirks.

“Not with that tie. I want the silver one. From the night before”. 

I release a breath I didn’t know I was holding and chuckle at her response.

I’m a little surprised she didn’t ask about my scars, and I’m about to ask her, when I remember our agreement. No questions. I might just enjoy this vanilla session.

I get up and walk to the closet, pulling out the silver tie.

“If for whatever reasons you want to be untied or this gets to be too much, just tell me. Have you done this before?” I ask her while binding her wrists to the headboard.

“I thought we agreed, Mr. Grey, that you won’t ask questions” she replies with an amused expression.

I silence her with another kiss, pulling down my pants. My throbbing erection sighs in relief. Just in my boxers, I move to straddle her, touching her breasts while nibbling at her ear.

The sounds she makes spur me on and I press my length to her core. She feels hot and slick and I can’t wait to be inside her.

I slid down her body, kissing and licking her stomach. With one hand I was kneading her breasts, while with the other I cupped her sex. I slowly discard of the panties and gently part her knees. I part her with my fingers and I groan seeing how wet she is. Using my thumb I circle her clit while pushing my middle finger inside her. She feels so incredible hot and snug and I can feel her clenching around my finger. I pause my thrusting, lowering my head to inhale her sweet scent. She moans when my tongue flicks for the first time her clit.

She tastes amazing. I trailed my tongue up and down her sex, in long strokes, increasing the pressure at the apex of her thighs. She became more frantic, slowly moving her hips to get more friction. I continued to circle, lick, suck and nibble at her clit while pumping my fingers until she came violently, her whole body trembling.

I licked her clean, not being able to get enough of her juices. I sucked and licked at her nipples until her breath regulated. I slid up her body, capturing her lips in a searing kiss, discarding my boxers. I grabbed a condom from the nightstand’s drawer, rolling it over my cock and positioned my erection at her entrance and looked in her eyes, seeking permission. She gave a curt nod and with one plunge I sheathed myself in her to the hilt. She cried out and I stilled my movements, giving her time to adjust to my length. 

After a few moments, she pushed her pelvis up and I began my thrusting. She felt exquisite. Tight, hot and slick. She soon started to meet my thrusts and I cupped her bottom, lifting her hips off the mattress to get a better angle.

It wasn’t long before her velvety walls began clenching around my cock and she came once again, convulsing and muttering my name repeatedly, like a prayer. After two more thrusts I followed her over the edge, with hot, long spurts of semen.

After regaining my breath, I lifted my head from between her breasts and looked at her flushed face.

“Are you okay?” I asked her.

She gave me a nod and a small smile, working towards catching her own breath.

I pulled out of her and threw away the used condom. I found myself hardening again looking at her body, coated in a thin cover of sweat.

Reaching to the drawer I gave her a mischievous smile and ordered her “Turn around. On your belly. Grab the headboard and don’t let go.”

I grabbed my now hard cock and stroked it a few times before putting another condom on. I slid my hand underneath Anastasia and lifted her ass in the air, parting her thighs. 

Grabbing her hips I buried myself once again inside her, this time inch by inch, wanting to feel all of her. She took all of me and I stilled for a second to appreciate the view of me buried deep inside her. She wiggled her ass, signaling me to start thrusting. Impaling her with a hard forceful thrust, I propelled her forward at the same time my hand came hard in contact with her ass cheek.

She freezed and I began to wait for her to run out the door like a bat out of hell, but she let a long moan, a fresh coat of her juices dripping on my balls. Smiling knowingly, I continued thrusting into her, being careful to adjust my plunges so my cock could touch her in all the right spots. I started to feel her walls tightening, milking me to another orgasm. Sensing I was close, I reached forward and grabbed her long hair, rolling it on my fist, tilting her head backwards.

“Come Anastasia!” I groaned just before another orgasm hit me, her clenching walls and pleasure screams draining it all of me.

After we caught our breaths I untied her wrists and discarded the condom. Anastasia remained on her side, breathing heavily, as I got back in bed. Laying beside her, my front to her back, I wrapped an arm around her waist, pulling her closer to me. Not long after, I heard her breath evening out and I realized she would be soon dead to the world. I reached and turned off the side lamp and brushing her hair from her face I coaxed her to sleep.

 

I woke up, feeling warm, tangled in the sheets. Looking out the window I saw that dawn was breaking, bathing the room in a soft pink light. I slowly untangled myself from Anastasia and propped my head on my left hand, looking at the sleeping beauty beneath me.

She was snoring softly, her lips slightly parted, a few strands of hair on her face. She looked so peaceful and sweet. 

I reached out and slowly brushed back her hair from her face, lifting her soft curls on her pillow. My gaze fell on her beautiful long neck, mesmerized once again by her perfect shade of skin.

Suddenly, I saw small, strange marks on her back. I got closer to inspect them properly. There was an odd pattern, thin, long, faded lines, some intertwined, with small, crescent-shaped marks, encased by sometimes two, sometimes three smaller lines. The marks stretched from the top of her back to her waist, seemingly more pronounced on her shoulders. I couldn’t see clearly because of some of her hair that was falling on her back and because of the faded light coming from outside, but I was pretty sure they were…scars.

The realization hit me at once, full force, and my breath caught in my throat. Is this why she didn’t want to be asked any questions? 

I put my head back on the pillow and my hand around Anastasia’s waist, protectively, my mind full with a million questions. I feared to close my eyes, my own memories haunting me. I feared to go to sleep, knowing my nightmares were just around the corner.


	5. The Morning After

The Morning After  
Disclaimer - All the rights to the wonderful world of Fifty Shades Trilogy belongs to E.L. James. I do not own any of the characters from the trilogy. No copyright infringement intended.  
Anastasia’s POV

I woke up feeling abnormally hot. It took me a moment to gather my wits, surprised by the new, strange surroundings.

Suddenly, I remembered last night, feeling the dead weight of an arm around my middle. So, this is why I felt so hot. It had to do with the tight embrace of the man sleeping next to me.

As soon as I realized my situation, the panic hit me full force. Despite of the scorching body sleeping behind me, sharp chunks of ice gripped my heart. This could not be happening to me. How could I have been so stupid to fall asleep?

My breath started to come out in short spurts , the threat of hyperventilation looming over me. I wiggled a little, trying to assess the tightness of his grip. Very slowly and carefully, I extricated myself from him, trying not to wake him up.

As soon as my feet hit the ground and I managed to stand upright, I glanced at the god-like man and reassured that he remained asleep. I quickly gathered my discarded clothes and pumps and I quietly exited the room, in nothing but my underwear.

I got dressed in a hurry, not bothering to pay attention to the wrinkles on my dress. I quickly found my purse and I cursed when I saw that, somehow, the contents of it spilled on the chair and underneath it. With one hand occupied by my black pair of pumps, I used the other to gather the items that occupied my purse, flinging it on my shoulder as soon as I was done.

Taking a second to listen for any sounds coming from the bedroom, that would indicate if my one-time lover was up, I silently exited the room, my Louboutins in my left hand, while my right one was busy closing the door with a soft click.

I made a beeline for the elevator, nearly tripping in the process, and I stabbed repeatedly the button, urging the machine to come up faster and cursing the many stories of this building.

As soon as the elevator pinged its arrival, I got up and pushed the button for the ground floor, balancing with one hand on the wall, as I slipped my shoes on.

I tried to arrange my hair, failing miserably, and to straighten my dress, hoping to occupy the time it took to reach the ground level and to avoid any memories from our kiss in this same space, memories that would sure leave me very hot and bothered.

I cursed myself once again for falling asleep and I prayed the heavens for him not to wake up, at least until I was a safe distance from this hotel.

When the elevators doors slipped open, I got out, sidestepping the couple that waited. They gave me a strange look and I suddenly became very aware of my flustered attire that screamed my thoroughly fucked state.

I was mortified the entire way out of the hotel, feeling all eyes on me, regarding me suspiciously. Great, I was doing the walk of shame in one of the best hotels in the city. God only knows what this people might think of me. My general paranoia increased, making me wonder if my chosen outfit made me look like a high-class escort.

I exited the lobby, before my panic transformed in a full blown attack, and started a brisk pace down the street. I hailed a cab a block after the hotel, and I breathed a little sigh of relief when I realized I wasn’t followed.

Still, my anxiety hasn’t subsided until after I closed the door of my apartment. I filled my lungs with long mouthfuls of air, dropping my purse on the small table in the foyer.

I quickly got undressed and in the shower, wanting to wash away all evidence from last night. Still, no matter how hard I scrubbed, my mind couldn’t be kept from wondering. Thoughts of last night filled my brain, remembering his taste, his smell, his touch. How he looked at me, his eyes pools of quick silver, sparkling with desire. How he kissed me and how he touched me, igniting a storm in me and leaving trails of fire on my skin. 

I got out of the shower and I scolded myself in the mirror, while drying my hair, for thinking such stuffs. There was no point in doing so. It was a done deal. No room for regrets or what-ifs scenarios. It was what it was and I got what I desired.

After eating a granola bar and some yogurt, while checking my e-mails, I decided to go for a run, in hopes to keep thoughts of him at bay. I needed to clear my head and put last night behind me.

When I got back at my apartment, nearly two hours later, I found Jose waiting for me on my doorstep, with a scowl on his face. What did I do now? I wondered while looking at my friend, confidant and protector slowly getting up. He had a habit of showing up only when he thought I was in trouble.

“Why aren’t you responding to your phone?” he asked, a hint of annoyance and anger dripping from his words.

Well…shit!

 

Christian’s POV

I woke up by someone screaming. Body-wrenching, soul-cutting screams. I was sweaty and panting, which meant that I had another nightmare, which also meant that the screams were my own.

I untangled myself from the sheets and leaned back on my pillow, taking large gulps of air. Looking to my left I saw that my bedmate was gone and I hurried up, pulling my boxers on me.

Glancing at the foot of the bed, I saw that her clothes have disappeared. Oh no, you didn’t! 

I raced to the leaving room, pulling the door open with more force than necessary. My intuition was correct, glancing through the room, seeing no sign of her still being here.

Fuck,fuck,fuck! A million times fuck! This can’t be happening. I was not done with her. Christian Grey does not get dumped!

After smacking the nearby chair I returned to the bedroom and pulled my phone out of my slacks, hitting speed dial.

“Sir?” the familiar voice answered after the second ring.

“I want a background check on a Miss Anastasia Steele. Compile all the information you can find, news articles, blog posts, Facebook status, anything you can uncover. And get me her address. This is high priority and I want an update within the hour.” I said to Welch, using my most authority tone, to make him understand the seriousness of the situation.

“Yes sir”, came his curt answer.

Hanging up, I glanced at the clock. It was almost ten in the morning. I picked up the hotel phone and dialed reception.

“How can I assist you, Mr. Grey?” the receptionist voice came, tinted with a heavy accent.

“I want to know at what time the woman from my penthouse left. She was petite, long brown hair, wearing a plum dress.” I say in a monotone voice.

“A little over an hour ago” the receptionist answered promptly.

“Thank you”, I say as I hung up. I texted Taylor, letting him know I don’t have plans for the next hour and I hopped in the shower.

Fifteen minutes later, I was dressed, freshly shaven and ready to face the day. Not that I had much to do, anyway. I ordered breakfast and I ate it, counting the minutes until Welch was supposed to call me.

As I finished my breakfast, I heard the phone ringing. I pulled it out of my pocket and I looked dumbfounded at the lifeless screen. I checked it again, to assure myself I haven’t gone completely nuts. Nope, nothing.

The ringing continued and after checking the hotel phone, I started to backtrack towards the source of the noise. Before I could reach it, the ringing stopped, only to start again after a few seconds. I finally found the device under the chair in the small foyer, a sleek, black, unknown smartphone. Under the chair where Anastasia dropped her purse. But that would mean… Eureka!

Checking the phone, I saw 4 missed phone calls and 3 new text messages, but I couldn’t get anywhere further as the phone was locked, needing a code to access it. Still, it was an important piece to her and all I would have to do was to wait. 

Grinning like a Chesire cat I leaned back in my chair, already making plans for a new game of cat and mouse.

My phone started ringing, indicating I had a call from Welch. Giddy with anticipation, I answered after the first ring.

“What did you find?” I asked impatiently.

“Not much, sir. Miss Anastasia Steele, adopted by a one Raymond Steele when she was a few months old, graduated WSU three years ago.”

“That’s all!?” I asked surprised.

“Yes, sir. All I could find in such a short time. But I doubt I can dig up much more, seeing as I wasn’t able to even come across her birth certificate, or any other official records. No information on her mother, nor her father. Not even the place of birth.” Welch said with a distressed tone.

“What about her adoptive father?” I asked with a tint of hope.

“Raymond Steele, ex-military, gone into private security twenty-five years ago, now retired in his hometown. No records of known employers. No known address, other than the one in Montesano. His file is sealed.”

I raked my hands through my hair, sensing my blood beginning to boil.

“How is that possible? TELL ME! How is it possible that a former CIA analyst to not be able to find information on a little woman and her father? WHY THE FUCK AM I PAYING YOU?” I hollered, surely making the person on the other end of the line wince.

“I’m sorry, sir. But…if I may, sir. Someone went to great trouble to keep Miss Steele’s life a secret. Even if I would be able to hack for information, I wouldn’t even know where to begin…” Welch trailed off pathetically.

“Keep. Looking” I growled, before ending the call abruptly, refraining from throwing the damn thing at the nearest wall.

I started pacing the room, when a knock on the door alerted me of a person’s presence on the other side. I quickly strutted towards the door, failing to hide my disappointment when I saw Taylor glancing impassively at me.

I did not invite him in, as I was not in the mood for seeing anyone right now. I dismissed the bodyguard swiftly, letting him know that if I needed him, I would call.

I closed the door and went to the bar, pouring myself a glass of scotch, despite the early hour. I just finished preparing the drink when another knock perturbed the silence of the room.

Grunting and muttering under my breath about fucking employees that couldn’t follow simple instructions, I went to the door, fully prepared to give Taylor a piece of my mind. 

Only the person outside managed to hitch my breath once again, with her clear, blue eyes.

“Anastasia…” I breathed.


	6. Tug Of War

Tug Of War

Disclaimer - All the rights to the wonderful world of Fifty Shades Trilogy belongs to E.L. James. I do not own any of the characters from the trilogy. No copyright infringement intended.

Anastasia’s POV

I was clearly unprepared for the sight in front of me. If I thought before that this man is insanely attractive, now I felt like I must have died and gone to Heaven. I gaped like a virginal teenager at the Adonis in front of me, who, for some reason, appeared to be even more gorgeous in the light of day. I quickly closed my mouth, my eyes widening further more as I drank him in.

He was dressed casually, wearing a white simple shirt and black jeans that hung on his hips in a way that made my mouth water. His hair was still a little damp from the shower, emphasizing his copper highlights. He looked at me expectantly, with a hint of surprise in his silver eyes.

I blinked out of my stupor, realizing he must have said something. Clearing my throat, I offered him a small, contrite smile, as an aim to apologize for ogling him like he was an eight pounds chocolate cake, with a cherry on top.

“I’m sorry…I realize you must be busy and…Uh…It seems I may have forgotten my phone here, I mean in your room.” I finished my babbling, trying pathetically not to blush.

Snap out of it, Steele! You are a strong, independent woman. Nobody can touch you. You are one tough bitch. 

With the help of my familiar mantra in mind, I straightened my back and squared my shoulders, looking the Adonis straight in the eyes. I was, once again, determined not to let him see how much he affected me, a thing that proved to be more difficult than I thought, considering the glint in his eyes. He looked at me like a cobra that found its new dinner, ready to pounce on it any second. And I was the poor mouse caught in his spell. 

“Yes, it appears so, Miss Steele” he replied, amusement in his voice. “Please, come in” he purred next.

“Thank you, but I don’t think it’s necessary. I just need my phone and I’ll be on my way” I replied sweetly. 

“Come in, Miss Steele.” He replied through clenched teeth. “I insist”.

I took a deep breath and took a step forward, finally passing the doorstep. He closed the door behind me and I took two more steps, cautiously, trying to distance myself as much as possible from the cause of my yearning.

“Take a sit” he said, motioning to one of the couches that occupied the space.

“No, thank you” I said simply.

His gaze narrowed, jaw clamped tight. “I insist.” He said, again.

“So you said” I muttered under my breath.

I clasped my hands together, in front of me, staring impassively at him, maintaining my position in the center of the room.

He seemed to have heard me, his jaw clenching so hard, I was afraid his teeth might shatter. His scrutiny focused on me, eyes blazing, his shoulders wide, back straight, appearing all of the sudden much taller than he really was.

I sighed, feeling somewhat sorry for him.

“Your intimidation technique won’t work on me, Mr. Grey. Look, I’m not here to play any games. I just came to retrieve my phone.”

He seemed taken aback by my candor, considering the look that swiftly passed his face, his features retraining quickly in the same sharp, serious expression. All this lasted no more than a second, and to the untrained eye it would have seemed as he didn’t even flinch, but I knew how to read people well.

We continued to stare at each other for a few moments, his gaze narrowed, eyes full of anger, and my gaze impassive, determined not to back down.

“Why did you leave?” he asked all of a sudden.

What the hell?

“The deal was over, Mr. Grey. Our allotted time ended the moment the sun was up. This was what we both agreed on, was it not?” I answered him with a hint of annoyance.

He actually gaped at me. Eyes wide, jaw on the floor. The image was so damn funny, a fit of giggle bubbled inside me, the sound pouring within the four walls, disturbing the unnerving silence.

He sucked a sharp breath, his expression softening a little. I managed to calm down, but I couldn’t suppress my glee.

“Do you make a habit of tormenting poor men?” he asked, amusement in his voice.

“Yes, yes I do. It’s in my job description.” I answered, nodding my head vehemently.

We continued to look at each other, somewhat more relaxed, the tension in the room subsiding. Not for long, though, as he became serious once again.

“Why did you leave?” he repeated the question, warning in his voice.

“I already told you. I may not be accustomed with the rules of one-night stands, but I’m pretty sure I was supposed to make myself scarce in the morning. Besides, it was not in my intention to fall asleep. I apologize for that.”

“There’s no need. Would you like a drink?” 

Oh no, I won’t play that game. 

“No, thank you. My phone, please.” I said politely, but determined.

His jaw clenched once again, his hands flying in his hair, gripping the roots.

“You are the most frustrating woman I have ever met!” he snapped.

“And you are the most arrogant, self-righteous man I have ever met!” I snapped back.

“You should cut the fucking bitch act already!” he said, impatiently.

“And you should pull that stick out of your ass!” I retorted, not backing down.

His eyes widened, eyebrows shot up, hands freezed in an exasperated motion in his hair. I found myself trying to hide my amusement, once again.

“Why do you keep asking that? Why do you care?” I asked him, tired of this conversation.

He regarded me for a few moments, his gaze taking me all in, from the simple, black cotton t-shirt, paired with my favorite pair of black skinny jeans, to the Converse sneakers I was wearing. I realized I must look in a very different way than the other two times he saw me, my choice of weekend attire completely opposite than the distinguished, sophisticated woman he met.

“I want to see you again” he blurted out.

What!? What the hell? No,no,no, this was not supposed to happen. I shaked my head, unable to believe the words I heard. It wasn’t supposed to be like this. One night and all would be over. 

“I…no…I don’t…you can’t…” I stammered my ability to form a logical proposition apparently flown on the window.

He looked at me, his eyes boring a hole in my soul. I didn’t like how he looked at me, like he could tell all my secrets with one glance. 

His eyes widened with realization, comprehension finally etching his beautiful face, and I looked at him like a dear caught in the headlights, waiting for the final blow.

“You’re afraid of me.” He breathed.

I pursed my chin forward, accepting my fate. “Yes.” I stated simply.

Because you can read me so good, because when I’m with you my control is slipping, because you make me want to lose my control over to you, because you can make everything I have been working for tumbling down in a blink of an eye, because you make me feel things I never felt before, because I can’t ban you from my thoughts, no matter what I do. But I didn’t have to say all this to him, because he, of course, knew. He knew and he understood.

“You’re scared of me, too.” I pointed out, in a weak attempt to shift the balance in my favor.

The bastard chuckled. 

“Why do you want to see me again?” I asked.

“I don’t know. I just do.” He stated, as a matter of fact. 

“This is not what I wanted.”

“I wasn’t looking for this, either.” He said.

“I’ll think about it.” I stated with finality.

He opened his mouth to protest, but I cut him off. “I’ll think about it and I’ll call you. I know you’re used to having control over a situation, but I need time. Please, Elliot.”

He closed his mouth and nodded. I took my phone from him and we exchanged numbers. I strutted to the door and we said our goodbyes. Before leaving though, I followed my sudden urge and I gave him a quick peck on the cheek. I turned my back and called the elevator, not daring to look at him, too ashamed of my childlike action.


	7. Assessments and Drunken Haze

Assessments and Drunken Haze

Disclaimer - All the rights to the wonderful world of Fifty Shades Trilogy belongs to E.L. James. I do not own any of the characters from the trilogy. No copyright infringement intended.

Anastasia POV

I decided to walk home, rather than hailing a cab. It was a wonderful spring day, the fresh smell of grass and new leafs, for once, surpassing the usual heavy smell of Paris. All around me, people were enjoying their day, either by basking in the sun on the freshly painted decks of the many cafes around the city, or by simply taking walks, stopping to look at the street performers.

There was a hum in the air, like everyone was waiting for something to happen. I could almost smell their hopes, see the multihued strings of their new energy, and feel their determination for new beginnings.

I found a small white bench in a crowded plaza and I took a seat, ready to submit to my long-time hobby of watching people. I wasn’t ready yet to return to the solitude of my apartment, that would do nothing else than forcing me to concede to my ever active mind. I wanted just a few moments of peace and quiet before the storm would begin to brew.

I regarded the people that occupied the plaza, laughing at the group of kids who were currently enjoying the wonders of feeling the small droplets of water on their skin, the bolder ones taking the chance to get in the knee-deep water of the fountain. 

After a few more minutes, I got up with a sigh, feeling slightly more ready to face my new challenge. The elation of everyone around me must have surely caught with me, as I found myself unable to ask if meeting this man was universe’s way of telling me I’m worthy of second chances.

As I started a leisurely pace towards the apartment, I pondered my options. I knew that if I would let my mind wander, I would overthink everything, so I made the decision I usually took in times like this. I took my phone out of my pocket, intending to call the one person that knew me better than everyone, maybe even better than myself.

My therapist, Dr. Sheila Bolton, the only person that made me come out of my shell all those years ago. Her office was based in Portland and I used to visit it regularly during my college years, but now, seeing as I was doing much better and I was almost completely functional, as she likes to say, as well as because of my traveling, we only talked on the phone, when necessary.

She answered after the fourth ring, as usual.

“Anastasia, what a pleasant surprise. I must say, I’m a little upset with you. You kind of ignored me this last two months, and you didn’t call me back.” She says with an admonishing tone. 

“I’m sorry. I intended to call you, but you know how it is. I am always busy.”

“You’re always busy because you like to keep yourself busy.” She says and I can almost see her rolling her eyes. “I told you many times before to try to have more fun. You’re always just work,work,work. And don’t tell me work is fun for you”.

“Well, no comment there.” I chuckled quietly. “I actually have some news…and I’m dealing with a dilemma…and I would love your help…or advice….”

“Ana, stop. Why are you nervous? What happened?”

“I met someone”, I blurted out.

“That’s wonderful news, but knowing you…what’s the catch?”

“He tried to pick me up in a bar on Wednesday. He’s so gorgeous. When I first saw him…I almost lost control and gaped at him”.

“And…? What happened next?”

“ Nothing happened. He kept trying to start a conversation but I kept blowing him off. In the end, I fabricated a story about some friend coming to pick me up and I got the hell out of there.” 

“Ana, Ana, Ana. You got scared.”

“Yes.” 

“Because he’s the first man you feel attracted to since….”

“Yes.”

“So? Is there more to this story?” 

“I couldn’t stop thinking about him. For two days I wasn’t able to concentrate on anything and you know that never happens to me.”

“What did you about it?” 

“I followed your advice. You know, the whole follow your heart, trust your instincts thing. I went back to that hotel bar and I waited for him. When he appeared, I proposed him a deal.” 

I was cut off by the roaring laughter coming from the other end of the line. I scowled, really offended by the full belly laugh my actions seem to elicit.

“You don’t have to laugh at me…” I admonished Sheila.

“I’m sorry, darling.” She said with a snort. “So…you proposed a deal to him, like a business transaction?”

“Yes, something like that. I accepted to spend last night with him. He accepted. Done deal.” 

“You slept with him!?”

“I did.”

There was a long silence on the line and I imagined Sheila gaping, closing and opening her mouth like a fish. If I wasn’t in public, I would have held my fist high in the air, maybe even doing a little victory dance. I managed to silence the great Dr. Bolton. 

“I see. And how was it?” her voice came back after the long stretch of silence.

“Great. Wonderful. Orgasmic. Fantastic. Amazing. Perf…”

“Okay, I got it. So what’s the problem?”

“I fell asleep. And I woke up and I was on the verge of a full panic attack so I quickly dressed, gathered my things and left before he could wake up. But, I forgot my phone. And I had to go back to retrieve it. And…we had an interesting conversation. He said he wanted to see me again.”

“Hence, your dilemma. Tell me about him.” 

“Well, he’s gorgeous, like seriously the most beautiful man I have ever met. I like him. He’s so damn bossy and serious all the time, and I find that incredibly amusing. He seems so much older than he really is, but when he smiles, you can see his youth, he’s like a breath of fresh air. He’s very cocky and I suppose he’s quite successful in business with that attitude. I enjoy making him mad, oh, he’s so sexy when he’s mad.” 

“Who are you and what have you done with Anastasia Steele?” Sheila joked.

“Seriously, what should I do?” 

“You know I can’t tell you what to do. That’s your decision. You know my usual advice. But, by the way you spoke about him, it seems to me you already made a decision.”

“He’s here on business” I whine. 

“So are you”

“I’m not ready for a relationship. I don’t know how to have one. And besides, there’s my family…I have too many issues.” 

“Stop finding excuses. And stupid ones, too. I’m not saying not to take into consideration all of this, but nobody is talking about a relationship here. For all you know, he’s only asking for more sex. And you seemed you enjoyed that. Now, why don’t you tell me the real reasons you want to avoid him?”

“I think he’s like me. I saw some scars on his chest last night and he asked me not to touch him. He makes me feel…bare. It’s like he sees right through me.”

“I see. So, you’re scared he might be the one to uncover all your secrets.” Sheila said snickering.

“Stop making fun of me. I’m serious. I don’t want to lose everything I fought for. I don’t want to lose my control.” 

“Ana, come on. He’s only going to find out your secrets if you decide to tell him. And you won’t lose control. Think about it like some sort of power exchange. You lose some of yours, but you gain some of his.”

“That’s an interesting approach. So you say I should go for it?”

“I’m not saying anything. Think about it. But don’t overthink it, like you usual do. Assess the situation by cataloguing the strengths and the weaknesses. You know the drill.”

“You’re not really helping, you know”.

“Ana, you are looking for someone to make the decision for you, and that can’t happen. But, if you’re looking for advice, you already know what I would tell you.”

“Yes, take every opportunity, live in the moment, let the past be in the past, trust your instincts, follow your heart.” I finish with a sigh.

“Good. Good luck, sweetie. And if you need more help, don’t hesitate to call me.”

“Thank you, Sheila, for everything. Talk to you later.”

“Goodbye, Ana. Take care.”

As I press the end call button, I find myself in front of my building. I quickly climb up the two stories, taking the stairs two by two and enter my apartment, basking in the comfort of it.

I spend the next few hours thinking about my new dilemma. Should I accept his offer? What exactly is his offer? Where will this be going? Will he find out about me? What would he think of me after?

My mind is full of questions, questions I don’t have the answer to. Nor do I want to answer them, too afraid of the outcome. I spent the last few years pushing everyone away, preferring to enjoy my own company, rather than answer uncomfortable queries. 

I have only two friends, three if you consider Sheila, and my relationship with my family has damaged. I manage to push away even the people I love, and I know they love me back, because of my insecurities and anxiety. Plus, I hate the way they look at me, with pity and guilt.

Maybe I should take him up on that offer. After all, I don’t remember when was the last time I had fun. And just upsetting him a little makes my day, apparently. But the thing that worries me the most is the loss of control. I could look at it like Sheila said and I definitely understand where she’s coming from. That makes me feel a little better.

But, then again, there’s this problem with my past. The truth is, I have issues. I’m not a normal person and I still suffer from anxiety attacks and flashbacks. And my insecurity creeps in, once again. If he knew about my past, would he still want me? Would he be disgusted with me? Or creeped out by me?

And that’s my cue for stopping with the internal monologue. I’m starting to overthink this.

When I stop pacing my living room and I glance at the clock, I find myself surprised by the late hour, wondering where the hours have gone. It’s already eight in the evening and I realized that, besides my meager breakfast, I haven’t had a bite to eat all day. I quickly throw together a salad, as I couldn’t stomach anything heavier with the anxiety ball that currently resides in my belly, and I turn the TV on, selecting a news channel, to keep me company during my dinner. Halfway through my dinner, my phone rings. 

I glance at the caller ID apprehensively, releasing a breath when I see it’s only one of my new coworkers, who’s also acting like my assistant for the time being.

“Yes.” I answer the call, in my usual business manner.

“Hey, Ana. I’m sorry if this is a bad time. Me and a few guys from the office are going to a new club tonight, and we were wondering if you want to join us.” Jo says.

I almost never fraternize with my coworkers, preferring to keep my business life and my personal life separate. But after the last few days…what the hell?

“Sure. What time? And where?” I ask my assistant/club hopping mate.

“At about ten. I’ll text you the address.”

“Okay. See you soon.”

I end the call and go for a bath. I realize that this is just another stalling technique, but I couldn’t care less. Maybe a few drinks will make me see the whole situation in a new light.

At half past nine, I’m ready to go. I ordered a taxi and I programmed the address of the club in my phone’s GPS, suggestively named Le Désir. I arrive at the club in time and I make my way towards the group of my coworkers, who greet me awkwardly, most of them probably surprised I showed up. Let the fun begin!

Christian’s POV

I can’t stop pacing the hotel room and I feel like a lion trapped in a cage. I’m not a patient man and I don’t know why I agreed to wait for an answer. I should have demanded one from her straight away. But it would probably have been a negative one.

I glance at the clock and I see it’s already eleven o’clock. I figure that if she would have a positive answer, she would have contacted me by now. I don’t like this at all. I honestly don’t know what came over me, letting a woman shove herself in my mind like that.

I pour myself a glass of wine, hoping to calm my nerves, but my left foot just keeps bouncing, no matter what I do. Fuck it. If the mountain doesn’t come to Mohammed…

 

I pick up the phone and dial her number. I wait and wait for her to pick up. No answer. I dial again. And again. What the hell is she doing? Is she sleeping? No, it’s way too early. Is she with another man? For some reason, this thought makes my blood boil and I quickly dial her again.

She finally picks up after the sixth ring. “Hello…?” she says giggling.

Something’s wrong. “Anastasia” I say instead of a greeting.

“Who’s this?” she slurs.

“Where are you?” I demand. “Are you drunk?” I can hear the loud music in the background.

“Oh, it’s Mr. Bossy-Pants.” She says giggling, once again.

“Where are you? Tell me, now. I’m coming to get you.” I demand impatiently.

“Why do you care? Go away”.

She hangs up on me. SHE HANGS UP ON ME. I dial Taylor and I order him to come in my room. Next, I call Welch, having him to trace my last call.

I quickly put my jacket on, gather my wallet and my phone and exit the room just as Taylor was preparing to knock. By the time Taylor has the car around, Welch sends me her location. A fucking club.

In less than ten minutes, we are outside of the club. I tell Taylor to wait for me in the car and I enter the club, not even bothering to acknowledge the bouncer outside. What kind of club is this? You can hardly see because of the thick curtain of smoke. You can’t hear anything because of the loud heavy metal, the bass reverberating through the room, making the walls and the floor vibrate. I finally see Anastasia a few tables over, laughing and gesticulating exaggeratedly to another person, just as intoxicated as her.

I go over to her and I grab her hand, leaning over to say to her to get up. She shoves me away, putting her hands on my chest. I freeze and my eyes widen at the same time as hers. She gets up from the chair quickly, taking my hand and apologizes. I move her towards the exit, hands clamped together. 

“I’m sorry” she says again, once we’re outside.

“Why did you hang up on me?” I ask her, dismissing her apologies.

“How did you find me?” she retorts.

“I traced your phone.” I say simply.

I fully expect her to start yelling, but she surprises me with a new fit of giggles. 

“Who are you? James Bond? For whom are you working for? NSA?” she says between barks of laughter.

“I’m taking you home.” I say simply, ignoring her drunken glee.

“Who the hell do you think you are? My knight in shiny armor?” she says angrily. “I don’t need you to protect me. I’m perfectly capable of doing that on my own.”

“Anastasia… “ I growl, warningly.

“I think I’m going to be sick” she says, before moving next to a bush and starting to vomit.

I quickly grab her waist with one hand, while I hold her hair with the other. After she finishes, I pull her to me, moving to the car. I buckle her in and I hand her a bottle of water, telling Taylor to return to the hotel. By the time we reach it, Anastasia is already fast asleep, so I pick her up and cradle her to my chest, strutting through the lobby purposefully towards the elevators.

Once in the room, I position her on the couch, trying to take off her shoes. She wakes up and looks at me expectantly. 

“Are you still feeling sick?” I ask her, while brushing the hair off her forehead.

She shakes her head no and winces. 

“What the hell were you thinking? Getting drunk in that hell hole? You could have been attacked. Or worse, raped. Have you lost your fucking mind?” I start firing at her, feeling myself getting more and more angry. 

She regards me in a funny way, like I was some circus freak or something. 

“Uh,oh…it seems I have unleashed the Kraken.” She says giggling.

I look at her dumbfounded, feeling the corners of my own mouth starting to twitch.

“Do you always say everything that passes through your head, Miss Steele?” I ask, amused. 

“Yes, I take my freedom of speech very seriously”.

I find myself gaping at her for a second time in one day. This woman rendered me speechless again. 

Instead of keep trying to get an answer from her, I take her in my arms and I carry her to the bathroom, filling the tub with water. Once the tub is filled, I lift her up and I carefully put her in the warm water, letting her to soak a little, before lathering her up gently. She is barely conscious, falling asleep by the second.

Once she’s all rinsed up and patted her dry, I put on her one of my t-shirts and her panties. I put her in bed, cuddling the blankets around her and I kiss her forehead.

“Sleep, baby” I murmur before turning the lights off.


	8. Dreaded Conversation

Dreaded Conversation

Disclaimer - All the rights to the wonderful world of Fifty Shades Trilogy belongs to E.L. James. I do not own any of the characters from the trilogy. No copyright infringement intended.

Anastasia POV

I woke up the next morning with a pounding in my head, the fiery taste of bile heavy on my tongue. I slowly darted the tip of my swollen tongue over my parched lips, coughing a little, in hopes that the cotton balls I seem to have ingested last night might vanish.

Becoming bolder in my moves, I sluggishly peeled one eyelid of my engorged eyeball, the rays of light fluttering in the room digging holes in my retina. I changed tactics, closing my eyes once again, trying to take in my surroundings through the power of sound. There was a light whoosh, indicating that the window was open, a confirmed fact after feeling a light breeze on my left leg that was currently peeking from under the covers. The birds were singing soft trills, and if I strained a little I could hear the shifts of the leaves. 

I was savoring for a little while the relaxing mood, trying to calm the pounding in my head, when the distant sound of water dripping on a tiled surface made my breath stop. In a second, everything that happened yesterday and last night came back to me, in vivid Technicolor details. I groaned, turning on my back and pounding my fists on the sheets around me, kicking my legs like a petulant child.

I opened both of my eyes this time, rolling over to check the clock, finding a tall glass of cold orange juice with two Advils besides, on the nightstand.

Thank you, Mr. Grey! I popped the pills in my mouth, swallowing them with a few sips of juice, before gathering enough courage to sit upright, despite the fact that the room wasn’t going to stop spinning. By the time I finished gulping the rest of the juice, my night in shiny armor emerged from the bathroom, a towel wrapped around his waist, hanging low on his hips. I am pretty sure that my suddenly quickened pulse and my shallow breaths were not a side-effect of the hangover I was sporting.

“Good morning, Miss Steele. Had a good night sleep?” he purrs, smirking in that cocky way of his at me.

I had to effectively swallow a few times my new found saliva, despite my sandpaper throat, before answering.

“Good morning. Yes, thank you.” I smiled at him sweetly, batting my eyelashes. 

“Umm…where are my clothes?” I asked stupidly, noting that the inferior part of my body was basically naked. 

“You threw up. They were filthy. I sent them to be dry-cleaned.” He replied, in a matter-of-factly tone, using a smaller towel to dry his hair. I don’t know why the clenching of the muscles in his biceps made my thighs to clench, also. Talk about synchronicity, right?

“I bought you new clothes. They’re in the bathroom.” He continued.

“You bought me new clothes?” I repeated, in a squeaky voice.

He didn’t answer, preferring to regard me with a great deal of amusement, the corners of his mouth twitching. Bastard. I was too hangover and my head hurt too much to deal with him right now.

I got up, disentangled the sheets from around me, tugging down the hem of the t-shirt I was wearing. I looked at him from the corner of my eye, and the salacious look he was giving me made a wicked idea to pop in my head. With a sly grin on my face, I pushed back on my heels, lifted my hands and stretched languidly, like a lazy cat. I may even have purred a little. Take that, Grey!

I responded to his smoldering look with a sexy grin of my own and sashayed to the bathroom, closing the door behind me, leaning on it, taking a deep breath.

I used the time in the shower to gather my splattered wits, realizing that, probably, now would be the time for the dreaded conversation, and I honestly didn’t have an answer for him. I found the bag with my new clothes hanging from a towel rack and I shook my head when I saw that he even bought me underwear. I didn’t know what should worry me more, the fact that the underwear was an almost exact replica of the one I wore the night before, or that he guessed my size correctly.

I decided it doesn’t matter and that I will take my retribution by washing my teeth using his toothbrush. There, that makes me feel better.

I emerged from the bathroom, a mist of steam surrounding me, and padded over to a chair to put on my socks and sneakers. He was over by the window, tapping furiously at his phone, dressed very much the same as yesterday.

He looked at me briefly, muttering about how he hoped that my clothes fit, walking towards the now empty bathroom. I raked my fingers through my hair, trying to untangle the knots and quickly tying it in a messy ponytail.

His head popped out of the bathroom, an incredulous look on his face.

“You used my toothbrush?”

I blinked twice, before stating the obvious. “I did”. 

His face scrunched up. “That’s a bit personal, don’t you think?” 

“Oh, and you tracing my phone, dragging me out of a club, giving me a bath and putting me to bed isn’t? Not to mention you buying me underwear.” I retorted, my voice dropping in the end to a menacing whisper.

“Good point, well made, Miss Steele.” He said, with a smug smirk.

Cocky bastard. I checked my purse and pulled out my phone. No missed calls. I sighed with relief.

He returned to the bedroom, looking straight in my eyes. I did the same, straightening my spine, determined not to back down. We continued the stare contest for a while, each one assessing the other to see who will make the first move to open his mouth.

“Come, breakfast’s here.” He said, taking my hand and leading me towards the living room. I rolled my eyes and followed him. Like I had any choice in the matter.

He led me to the table, covered in a whole assembly of plates, the amount of food on it enough to feed six people, and throw a small feast for another four. He pulled my chair and waited for me to sit down, like a true gentleman.

This made me smile, a genuine smile, because, somehow, I never pictured him having the manners of a properly groomed man. After all, the way he fucked me the night before was far from gentle. Not that I would complain. I like both sides of him and, for some reason, I found myself wondering if maybe there were more sides of him waiting to be discovered. I felt giddy thinking how I wouldn’t mind to go all Christopher Columbus on him.

His voice interrupted my wandering thoughts. “Would you like some coffee?” he asked, holding a jug.

“Yes, please”. He poured me some and I picked up the milk and sugar, mixing them with the hot black liquid. 

I took a sip, scrunching my face in disgust at the strange taste. “You don’t like it?” he asked, seeing my expression.

“I prefer tea. But, in times like this, coffee is a must.” I say, sighing in the end.

He chuckled, taking a sip of his own cup. “Maybe you should have thought about this when you decided to get drunk.”

I ignored his comment, stuffing my plate full. “Are we waiting for someone?” I asked, cutting a piece from my omelet. 

“No, go ahead.” He said, gesturing to my plate, piling the food on his own plate.

We ate in silence, stealing glances of each other during the meal. I finished my coffee with the last piece of my delicious croissant, chewing slowly, savoring the exquisite taste of true French pastries. 

“Thank you” I said simply, referring not only to the breakfast, but to him taking care of me while I was drunk, as well.

He seemed to understand what I was trying to say, giving me a shy smile that melt the heart I was not aware it still existed in the dark pits of my form. I couldn’t help but smile back, biting my lip to stop my lips to curl into a full blown grin.

The intimate moment we shared was, of course, broken the instant my phone started ringing. Glancing at the screen, I muttered an excuse and moved to the window, in an attempt to have a little privacy and to block the raised voice I knew will blast from the speaker.

“Hello?” I answered my back to Elliott. 

“Where are you?” 

“Good morning to you, too, Jose.” I replied sarcastically, rolling my eyes. 

“You’re not at your apartment.” He said, unaffected.

“I’m not, but I’m fine, don’t worry.” 

“Are you at the office?” he continued his interrogation.

“No, I’m with a friend.”

A long stretch of silence followed. Finally, Jose spoke. “A friend? What friend?”

I sighed, rubbing my temple with my free hand. “I’ll call you later. I’m fine. Don’t worry.” I repeated through clenched teeth.

“No, I’m not going to hang up until you tell me exactly where you are and what’s going on.” He replied, impatiently.

“Look, we were just finishing breakfast and it’s really very rude of me to leave him alone. I said I’ll call you later.”

“Him!?” came his shocked voice. “You’re with a man?” A short pause, then. “Who is it? What’s his name? What are you doing with him? Why are you with him? WHERE ARE YOU?” he bellowed.

“Jose”, I spatted through gritted teeth, “I’m a little busy right now, as I said before. Now, be a dear and leave me alone. I appreciate you trying to take care of me and look after me, but I wish you’d stop. You’re one of the most important persons in my life and I love you to pieces, but you’re smothering me. Please, just trust me and I’ll talk to you later.” I replied, my voice growing louder towards the end. 

As an afterthought I added in a low, menacing voice. “And don’t even think about tracing my phone, or I’ll kick your ass.” 

I ended the call, not even bothering to wait for his reply, and turned to Elliott. He was looking at me steadily. I don’t think that many people were able to see what really went through his head beneath his stony façade, but I knew that, underneath the cool and collected exterior, a storm was brewing. I didn’t know the reason, but I could tell by the look in his eyes that the Kraken was about to be unleashed once again.

“Who’s Jose?” he said bitterly, like he was struggling to pronounce his name.

Christian’s POV

I clenched my jaw, waiting for her answer. She let out an exasperated huff, blowing some of the tendrils that escaped from her ponytail off her face, and returned to the table, not responding me until she was seated.

“He’s a friend.” She said. That’s it? What the fuck was I supposed to do with this small bit of information?

Grinding my teeth, I continued. “Is he your boyfriend?” 

She shook her head, before speaking resolutely. “No, it’s not like that between us. He’s like my brother. We grew up together.”

I let out the breath I was holding with a sigh of relief. I nodded, not knowing whether my desire to continue the interrogation will make her mad. 

“Do you have a girlfriend?” she asked, interrupting my thoughts.

It was my turn to shake my head resolutely. “No, I don’t do girlfriends.” I said, looking at her, waiting for her reaction.

“Oh…” she breathed, eyes widening slightly.

I remained quiet, waiting for her to make the next step. After all, I do believe she owed me an answer.

“So…” she trailed off, shifting uncomfortably in her chair. “What do you want from me? I mean…” she trailed off again, gulping a little. “What did you mean when you said you wanted to see me again?”

Now, it was my turn to gulp. The truth was…I didn’t know what I wanted, besides that I really wanted to see her again. Apart from that, though, my mind was unable to take it into further consideration. And if I was to be honest with myself, to see her again was more of a need for me, rather than a desire. Why was that? I had no answer.

She must have seen the confused expression on my face, because she started giggling. “You have no idea what you meant, isn’t it?”

I smiled at her giggle and nodded fervently. She sighed and played with the end of her ponytail, a forlorn expression on her face. 

“I don’t know either…” she sighed again. “I don’t do relationships, either. I mean I don’t know how to even have one. I don’t think I’m ready for one…” she trailed off, looking at me pleadingly to save her from her rambling. She was nervous and flustered, fidgeting in her chair like she was suddenly in the principal office. She looked so small and innocent right now, not at all like the strong woman with a smart mouth I dealt with until now, and I had to fight the urge to take her into my arms and reassure her everything will be okay.

I sighed, preferring to give her the honest answer, rather than the reassuring one. “I don’t know either. I guess we’re in the same boat.” I made a small pause, debating inwardly whether to continue with my honesty path or not. “I don’t know why, but I know I want to keep seeing you.”

She nodded affirmatively, eyes wide. “Me too. I mean, I want to see you again, too.”

She started worrying her bottom lip with her teeth, appearing to fall deep in thought. I stifled my groan, the sight of her biting that lip highly erotic for me.

“Look” she said, capturing my attention. “I’m going to be honest with you. Oh, by the way, honesty is kind of a big deal for me, you know. I have some trust issues, so…wherever this thing between us might take us, I have to know you will be honest with me. Always. I’m not saying you have to tell me your life story, or to disclose your deep, personal secrets, but I have to know that I won’t feel the need to question every word that comes from your mouth. So, if I’ll ask you something you are not prepared to tell me, or you have no answer for, or whatever, just say so. And I’ll stop. And you need to do the same. We won’t push each other “she finished, looking into my eyes steadily, waiting for reassurance. 

I gulped again. Shit,shit,fucking fuck shit. That’s going to be a problem for me, seeing how I already lied to her. But, then again, who’s saying she didn’t do the same? The way she talks about this, however, makes me think about safewords. Like safewording for ending an emotional torture. That’s certain an interesting approach…

She interrupts my line of thinking, again, by continuing. “Anyway…what I was trying to say is that we don’t have to put a label on it. I mean, we can be just two people that enjoy spending time together.” 

I nodded. “Eloquently put, Miss Steele.” Somehow, she seemed to read my mind. I didn’t like the fact that I didn’t know exactly where this was going, but the thought of never seeing her again was surprisingly painful. 

She let a small disbelieving laugh, shaking her head slightly. “Hell, we can call it a practice run. You know…we don’t even know how much time we have. Who knows which one of us will have to leave Paris first?”

That gave me mixed feelings. I didn’t know how to respond to that. On one hand, it is what I wanted in the first place, a way to pass the time spent here, a fantasy of some sorts, a holiday fling, but on the other hand…no, don’t go there, Grey.

“So, let me get this straight.” I say. “You want to see me again, no strings attached, until one of us leaves Paris?”

She nodded. “So, any other terms or rules, besides honesty and the…hourglass?” I ask, with an amused smile.

She laughs a little at my choice of words and bites her lip again, appearing to be debating something with herself for a few minutes. 

“No” she says with finality. “No rules, no terms. I…I’m sick of those. I lived my life with too many of them. I’m ready to see what happens next, without planning ahead. I’m ready to embark on an adventure. It might be fun.” She states giddily, with an excited glint in her eyes.

I can’t help but laugh at her childlike antics. I don’t know what to say about that. Everything she does and says is so unexpected. She seems to catch me with my guard down every time. But strangely, it doesn’t bother me. And I can’t help but agree with her. It might be fun. 

“Okay, you have a deal Miss Steele.” I say, laughing a little. She offers me her hand and we shake on it, laughing afterwards.

We spend a few more moments looking at each other, me being caught in her spell. My mood turns a little sour when I realize that I should warn her to steer clear of me.

I clear my throat and fidget a little. “You know, I should be honest with you, too. I feel like I have to warn you. You should stay away from me, Miss Steele.”

She makes eye contact, not breaking it for some time. “I could say the same to you, Grey. I could be dangerous for you, too.” 

I gape at her for a second, then I groan loudly. “You always say the unexpected, don’t you?” I ask, sourness in my voice.

She shrugs, brushing it off. “I’m just being sincere. I don’t believe in holding your thoughts in. If I have something to say, I do it.”

I chuckle, remembering our past exchanges. She’s like a breath of fresh air. 

“So…what do you want to do today?” I ask her, trying to see if she had any previous plans.

“I don’t know. Wait, you’d like to spend the day together?” she asks me, surprised.

“I do. That is, if you don’t have any prior engagements.” I say, giving her a shy smile. “It seems I can’t get enough of you, anyway.” I continue under my breath, confused by this sudden revelation.

Her sharp intake of breath lets me know that she heard me. Great, now she’ll think I’m some kind of creep or worse, a pussy. I don’t have time to retract my words, because she gives me a full, toothy, grin, eyes sparkling and everything. I swallow, fighting the urge to spin her around and kiss her with all I’ve got.

“I would like a walk” she says after a beat. “I need some fresh air. Maybe some more coffee, or tea.”

A walk? I haven’t taken a walk in a long time. I actually can’t remember when was the last time I took a walk, if ever. I gaze out the window, seeing it’s a perfect day for spending it outside. But, would it be safe? I don’t want some paparazzi punks to follow us around. And blow my cover. Oh, fuck it. Here, I’m nobody. It’s not like someone on the street will recognize me.

“Okay” I acquiesce. “A walk sounds good.”

She smiles sweetly at me, flinging her ponytail over her shoulder. “I just have to use the bathroom real quick, then we’ll go, ok?”

“Sure. I’ll make sure the table is cleaned up by then.” I say, but she’s already halfway to the bedroom.

I call reception, letting them know it’s okay to send someone up to clean up and I gather my wallet, phone and keycard, putting them in various pockets, before grabbing my jacket. I don’t bother to go to the door when the knock comes, being sure it’s the cleaning lady, instead just answering with a distracted “come in” from my spot by the window.

The door opens and in comes Taylor. Shit, shit, shit, fucking shit.

“Good morning, sir.” He says in his usual manner.

“Good morning, Taylor.” I gulp. I can’t believe I forgot about him. How the hell am I going to explain his presence to Anastasia, who’s ready to come out from the bedroom any minute now.

As if she sensed it, she comes out, shrugging on her jacket, before slinging her bag on one shoulder. She stops in the middle of the room, looking at Taylor expectantly, then at me. Taylor’s eyes widen slightly at the sight of her.

I cough uneasily. “This is my…coworker, Taylor. Taylor, this is Miss Anastasia Steele.” I make the introductions, praying all the gods for Taylor to play along and not to fuck this up for me.

Anastasia extends her hand. “Nice to meet you, Mr. Taylor. Please, call me Ana.” She says. And then, as if she remembered something, she adds, blushing “Right, you were the one driving last night. Thank you…”

“Nice to meet you, Miss Steele. No thanks necessary.” Taylor adds, bushing a little too.

“Right” I say, interrupting them. “We were going to take a walk” I inform Taylor hastily. “I don’t know when we’ll be back.”

Taylor eyes bulge almost all the way out of their sockets and he looks like he might begin spluttering a little. If I wouldn’t be in such an awkward situation, I might have laughed my ass off at the sight of the imperturbable ex-military trying to form a coherent sentence.

“We were going for some coffee, too. Would you like to come?” Anastasia asks politely.

Taylor looks at me and I shake my head no, slightly. He gets what I’m trying to say and retreats immediately.

“No, that’s all right. I was just coming to ask Mr. Grey what the plans for today are.”

An uncomfortable silence stretches between us for a moment, before Taylor clears his throat and says his goodbye, quickly exiting the room.

Anastasia turns to me, with an amused expression on her face. “What’s his deal?” she asks, pointing her thumb over her shoulder in the direction of the now closed door.

“I don’t know. Are you ready?” I ask, changing the subject.

“Yes, I am. Should we go or we should wait for the cleaning lady to get here?”

“No, she has a keycard. I let the reception know it’s all right to send someone.”

Anastasia nods and moves towards the door. I catch up with her, opening the door for her. Once outside, I check to make sure the door is locked, while Anastasia calls the elevator. We step in it at the same time and once the doors close, we both become aware of the sexual tension that arises in the small place.

She’s trying to suppress her smile, surely remembering what happened in here Friday night. I can’t stop my chuckle seeing her expression and we both start laughing like mad persons, while the elevator descends. At least we were able to diffuse the tension, I think as I wipe the tears from the corner of my eyes.


	9. Lazy Sunday

Lazy Sunday

Disclaimer - All the rights to the wonderful world of Fifty Shades Trilogy belongs to E.L. James. I do not own any of the characters from the trilogy. No copyright infringement intended.

Anastasia’s POV

As soon as the doors of the elevator opened, he took my hand and led me outside, at a leisurely pace. He seemed more relaxed now, after the laughter session we shared in the elevator. The corners of his mouth were still twitching. He was so beautiful now, in this way, relaxed and carefree. He was always gorgeous, of course, but right now, without his usual stress lines marring the space between his brows and without his jaw locked tight in anger, he resembled more of a god than a man.

His mood eased my nerves, and it made me feel giddy and cheerful, like I was a teenager that just got lucky for the first time. I didn’t even spared a second to think about the fact that he kept holding on my hand, preferring to avoid the revolving doors, favoring the side one, rather than letting go. I realized that’s what he does to me. He soothes me, and my overactive mind. I didn’t overthink a thing while I was with him. On the contrary, I did something I never would have thought of doing in my life. I’ve thrown caution to the wind and embarked myself on an adventure with him.

I didn’t really know him and I certainly didn’t know what I signed myself for, and I honestly didn’t care. Never before I understood better than in this moment what my therapist was trying to say. Live in the moment. It was a refreshing, exhilarating, relaxing feeling. I felt born again, I could look at the world in a different way, a more optimistic way.

My therapist mantra kept swirling around in my head, for some reason. Take every opportunity. Live in the moment. Let the past stay in the past. Trust your instincts. Follow your heart. I understood now what she was saying when she said that there’s no better therapy than new beginnings.

We kept walking aimlessly, in silence. It wasn’t an uncomfortable one, but rather one that it seemed somewhat normal for us. He appeared deep in thought, also, and not at all disturbed by the silence. He looked at me and smiled and I smiled back. That’s all we did, our eyes saying a lot more than words ever could. After all, words are overrated. I certainly never needed them, and I never trusted them, because you can always find the truth by looking closely at a person. I read people very well, and I wasn’t ashamed to say so. But with Elliott, it was different somehow. I could not only read him, but feel his emotions. Like, we were perfectly attuned with each other. I scoffed inwardly at the thought. Sappy much, Steele? 

I tugged on his hand, pointing in the direction of a small park I knew. It was a little piece of heaven for me, here in Paris. So beautiful and serene, with old, old benches and older trees. We crossed the street, still hand in hand, and he took a moment to look at the letters above the old entrance gate, that once upon time formed the park’s name. Now, only a few remained, and even a master of the crossword puzzles could never guess the right words, the name of the park remaining nothing but a faded memory in the pages of history. 

It was quiet, but here it always was. Not many people ventured in this small park, despite the willowy shade it offered. It was just us and the old people, who came here maybe only to remember the days that were or to meet the ghosts of their past. 

“There’s a small pond ahead. But we have to make a stop first.” I said. He looked at me, questions in his eyes, but I only smiled and tugged on his hand to a small cart on the side of one alley. 

“Bonjour, Michel.” I greeted the vendor. “Comment vas-tu ce matin?” 

“Mademoiselle Steele, quel plaisir! “ The man greeted me back. “Que puis-je faire pour vous aujourd’hui ?”

“Je veux des bretzels, s’il vous plait. Deux. Et un peu de vous baguette.”

“Allez-vous nourrir les canards de nouveau?” the man asked, putting two pretzels and half of a baguette in a small brown bag. He knew I was going to feed the ducks, and he looked over at Christian when I ordered an extra pretzel.

“Oui” I murmured. “Tu me connais bien, Michel. Merci.” I said, paying the man, a small tip on the side,

Christian smiled at me, grabbing my hand again and the bag with the other. “You should’ve let me pay for it.” He admonished. “Won’t the ducks get fat from all this bread?”

I let out a small chuckle, shaking my head. “No, there are a lot of them. And they’re always hungry.”

He chuckled, too and something else clicked in my brain. “You speak French” I state.

He nods, glancing at me. “Not as good as you do, apparently. I don’t have your accent. You speak like a native.” 

“Practice makes it perfect.” I say. “I learned one more thing about you today”

“It seems you have. I can’t say the same about you, though. I learned several things about you.” He says, with that smirk of his.

“Is that so? And, pray, do tell, Mr. Grey, what things?” I say, shoving his shoulder playfully.

He feigns hurt and chuckles. “I learned that you like to sleep with one leg out from under the covers, that you have a problem with respecting other people’s boundaries”, he says with a mock glare, clearly referring to the toothbrush incident, “that you prefer tea over coffee, that you have a healthy appetite, that you have a best friend who has also boundaries issues, that you prefer Ana over Anastasia, that you are a romantic and that you have a kind heart.” 

I stop in my tracks and I look in awe at this man. I can’t believe that he would notice all of this, or that he would care. There are so many more sides of him I haven’t seen yet, and I wonder if I’ll have enough time to discover at least half of them. I pounce on him, wrapping my legs around his middle, my hands snaking behind his neck, and I kiss him with all I’ve got. He wobbles a little at first, as I caught him with his guard down, but regains his balance quickly and kisses me back with the same fervor. 

“You’ve already been in my panties, no need for further wooing, Mr. Grey.” I tease, trying to catch my breath.

He throws his head back in laughter and looks at me with sparkling eyes. “I can assure you, Miss Steele, that wooing was not my intention.”

I smile wickedly at him, knowing exactly what he was referring to. I steady myself on my legs and I take his hand, dragging him to the little pond. We went to my favorite place, which was behind a cluster of willow trees, near one edge of the pond. I particularly liked this place because it gave me a whole view of the park and the pond, while it was secluded enough to keep me from prying eyes. 

“Interesting place you found here, Miss Steele.” Elliott said, with a mischievous glint in his eyes.

“Oh no, stop your dirty mind for going further. We’ll have to keep ourselves at an acceptable PG-rating behavior, otherwise we’ll traumatize the poor ducks.” 

He chuckles and takes a sit on the grass, besides me, putting the bag on the ground in front of us. I pull out the bread and start breaking it to little pieces. It’s not long before we’re invaded by a flock of ducks and ducklings, noisily making their way towards us. 

“Are you sure they’re not going to attack us?” he asks, eyeing the birds warily.

I shake my head and laugh. “No, they’ll keep their distance. They love getting fed, but they don’t like us humans too much.”

After I finish feeding the little invaders, I pull my bagel out, handing over the other to Elliott and we eat in silence for a while.

“Why are you here in Paris?” he asks me, all of a sudden.

“Business. The company I work for has recently acquired a small firm here. I’m currently in the process of evaluating its activity and its assets for deciding if it’s going to be a profitable addition to the group or we should just pass it along.”

He regards me with a strange look. “What is it that you do?”

I sigh, not really in the mood to talk about work. “I’m a contract negotiator. I usually deal with M&A, but when necessary I stay over to make sure everything is running smoothly. You know, restructure, reorganize, repurpose. I further negotiate other contracts, from clients to suppliers.”

He starts laughing, shaking his head. I look at him dumbfounded, not knowing what I said to warrant such a reaction.

“I’m sorry…It’s just damn funny. I do the same thing.” He says, between barks of laughter.

I start laughing, too, realizing the meaning of the situation. “I guess we have more in common than I thought.”

He nods, wiping the tears from his eyes. “You don’t sound too enthusiastic about it, though. You don’t like your job?”

I shrug. “It’s what I’m good at. I’m good at closing deals and I’m good at solving problems. I read people well, so I’m able to figure what they want in order to shake hands in the short time possible.”

“What company you work for?”

“BPG. It’s one of the largest…” I start explaining, but he cuts me off.

“I know about it. Though I’m pretty sure that, now, it’s the largest group holdings in Europe. How come you work for a Belgian company?”

I shrug, not wanting to go into details. “They offered me a job.” I say dryly.

He seems to pick up my vibe and backs off. We continue sitting for a while in silence, looking at the pond and its inhabitants. He stretches his legs in front of him and props himself on his hands, tilting his head toward the sun, closing his eyes. I lay across the grass, putting my head in his lap. He seems surprised by my action, but doesn’t protest. After a while, he relaxes again and lies down fully on his back, one hand playing with my hair. 

I must have fallen asleep, because I wake up with a start, feeling someone’s lips on my forehead. I groan and try to swat the attacker away with one hand. Elliott chuckles and I grin. I finally get up and stretch, asking him what time it is.

“Well past lunch. The sun is about to set.”

“Sorry” I mumble, rubbing my hands over my face. “Are you hungry?” I ask him, feeling guilty I fell asleep because of my hangover and missed lunch.

“I’m starved.” He says, but the look in his eyes tells me that maybe he’s not talking only about food. I blush and give him a small smile. 

“I know a nice little Italian restaurant a few blocks from here. “ I say, taking his hand to get up. 

“Would you prefer to eat there or go back to the hotel and order room-service?” he asks me. I’m suddenly confused. 

“Why would we go back to the hotel? Oh, you want me to spend the night?”

“That was the plan.” He states, smirking in that way.

“Okay…we need to swing by my apartment on our way back. I need to pack some stuff. You know, an overnight bag and some clothes for work tomorrow. Your hotel is closer to the office, anyway.” I ramble on, as we move to the exit of the park.

We had a nice, intimate dinner at the small restaurant. We talked about nothing in particular, just small talk over dinner. I learned that he’s a pretty serious wine connoisseur and he ordered a bottle of delicious wine to go with our meal. I thought he’s a scotch man, but I guess I was mistaken.

After dinner, we swung by my apartment then returned to the hotel, hand in hand. He asked me to go ahead, saying he had to check on his coworker, Taylor, first. We took the elevator together and he got off one floor beneath his penthouse, to go to Taylor’s room. I didn’t understand why Taylor had a separate room and Elliott got a whole penthouse to himself. It would’ve been enough space for the two of them. I made a mental note to ask him about that.

Christian’s POV

After I went to see Taylor to tell him I wouldn’t need him for the night and we went through tomorrow’ schedule, I returned to the penthouse, using the second keycard I got from Taylor.

I got in and emptied my pockets, putting the contents on the bar’s area. I entered the bedroom and called Anastasia’s name, as I didn’t see her anywhere. She responded from the bathroom and I followed her voice. I found her in the bathtub, her head leaning on the edge of the tub, steam filling the room.

With a sly grin, I quickly discarded my clothes and joined her. I pulled her back to me, wrapping my legs around her and relaxed. It felt good to have her in my arms. I never had this sort of human interaction and I always avoided getting this close with any of my subs. But, with her, it was different. It felt different, too, but in a good way.

We continued to stay like this, basking in the warm, lavender scented water, enjoying the feel of skin on skin Suddenly, she turned around to face me and leaned in for a kiss. I allowed it, molding my lips over hers, tracing the seam of her lips with my tongue, fully enjoying her taste. Our slow, sensual kiss became more urgent and passionate, and she broke it, resting her forehead on mine. She opened her eyes and looked at me. I found myself, once again, lost in her sapphire ocean. 

“You know…there’s something I wanted to do since the first time I saw you.” She says in a low, seductive voice.

I raise my eyebrows in question, really intrigued. 

“I wanted to taste you.” She says, regarding me through her lashes, blush coloring her cheeks. I sucked in a sharp breath and groan. Her words had an instant effect on me, my erection now begging for attention.

“Is that so, Miss Steele? Then, by all means, don’t let me keep you.” I say jokingly, gesturing towards my crotch.

She licks her lips and looks at my engorged muscle. She tentatively wraps a hand around the base of my cock and scoots backwards on her knees. She leans in and trails her tongue over the head, licking the precum. I moan at the sensation and my heart stops when the tip of my cock disappears in her mouth. She sucks gently and I buck my hips involuntary. She pulls my cock out and trails the flat of her tongue from the base to the head, swirling it around the tip. She licks her lips again before she takes my cock in her mouth again, moving her head gently, up and down.

I sigh, lost in sensation, and I reach over with one hand to graze her nipple, pinching it between my fingers. She moans and the vibrations feel exquisite on my cock. She swats my hand away and I start to protest, but she stops me when she takes me all in, all the way to the base. Holy fucking hell. This is pure heaven. After I make sure she won’t gag, I put my hand on the base of her neck and slowly guide the movements. I’m fucking her mouth, going all in, until my tip reaches her gullet. The image is more than hot and when she increases the pressure of the suction I know I won’t last much longer. I come with a long groan, filling her throat with hot spurts of semen and she swallows all of it, without protesting.

“Don’t you have a gag reflex, Anastasia?” I ask her.

She shrugs. “Apparently not”. I shake my head and lean back down, trying to regain my breath.

After a while I get up and pull her with me, giving her a deviously smirk. “Come, Ana. I believe I owe you an orgasm.”

After we’re both dry, I pull her over my shoulder, swatting her behind and she squeals. With a few long strides I reach the bed and drop her unceremoniously on it. She plays along, scurrying over to the other edge, but I catch her and drag her back to me. 

“Miss Steele, you’ve been a naughty, naughty girl. What shall we do to naughty little girls like you?”

Next chapter: Family Ties.


	10. Family Ties

Family Ties

Disclaimer - All the rights to the wonderful world of Fifty Shades Trilogy belongs to E.L. James. I do not own any of the characters from the trilogy. No copyright infringement intended.

Christian’s POV

We’re lying in bed, my front to her back, and the lights from the city below making strange patterns across the walls. I’m playing with a strand of her hair, rolling it across my finger and she makes small circles on my wrist.

We don’t really talk. I noticed this about us. We talk only if we have something worth mentioning. Strangely, I’m not bothered because of the endless silence stretching between us. Maybe because I’m somewhat feeling guilty about lying to her and in this way I avoid telling her more lies. I scoff inwardly at the thought. Who am I kidding? I don’t have a conscience. 

It’s actually strange how at ease I feel around her. She makes me feel almost normal, and that it’s one of the other reason why I don’t regret telling her the wrong name. The fact that she doesn’t know who I am lifts a huge weight of my shoulders. I don’t know if she were to know the truth she would treat me differently, but I know that when I’m with her I’m just a man that enjoys the present. A man with no past, no money, no fame, no obligations and no future. 

I like that there is nothing to complicate our relationship. I scoff again inwardly. Relationship. Though, I suppose we do have a relationship. After all, I’m cuddling with a woman I just had sex with. Vanilla sex, nonetheless. That doesn’t scare me. Why doesn’t it scare me? Maybe because of the countdown, maybe because I know none of this is real. All I know is that I truly enjoy living in the moment, for now.

Suddenly, Anastasia gets up and sits on her knees, looking at me, wrapping a sheet around her. She just blinks at me for a seconds and looks like she wants to say something, but she doesn’t.

“I have to go to the bathroom” she finally mutters, disappearing into the bathroom. What the fuck?

I get up, as well and put on my boxers and a T-shirt. I go in the seating area of the penthouse and pour myself some water. She reemerges from the bedroom, wearing nothing but one of my t-shirts. 

I smile seeing her, because I like that. She seems so much smaller, all wrapped in a few sizes too big t-shirt. Like a present. My present. 

She smiles at me, too, but it doesn’t reach her eyes. I sigh and sit on the couch.

“What’s wrong?” I ask her, perhaps a lot harsher than I intended, because she visibly flinches. “Come here” I say softer, stretching my hand.

She just shakes her head and fumbles behind the bar for a minute. She finally comes to me, a bottle of scotch and two glasses in her hands. She puts the items on the coffee table and fills the glasses, offering one to me. 

I take it, one eyebrow raised, regarding her suspiciously. She seems nervous, for some reason and I don’t understand what it is I did wrong. If she’s not starting to talk soon, my anxiety will kick in, and then I’ll get angry. 

She takes a large gulp of the glass, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. She takes a deep breath and starts talking.

“So…I’ve been thinking. I don’t know if…I mean…I know we don’t have a real relationship, but still…What I’m trying to say is…I think you have a right to know…”

I lose my patience and snap. “Just spit it out, Anastasia.”

She glares at me. “Gee, thanks for the consideration.” She spats through her teeth. 

“Sorry” I mumble. “I’m not a patient man.”

“You don’t say…” she says mockingly, one eyebrow risen. I narrow my eyes in warning, even though she seems unfazed. God, I would really like to take her over my knee right now.

“So, what I was trying to say before you rudely interrupted me is that I would like to tell you about my family.” She says. Okay, good. As the background check came back empty…the more information the better.

Again she’s nervous. “Well, I’m adopted…No, that’s not the right beginning. I don’t really know how to start…” she stays silent for a few seconds, biting her lip, mulling something in her head.

“My real father is Francois Bouvois” she blurts out and I choke on my drink.

“Francois Bouvois? As in Bouvois Participations du Groupe ? Fucking BPG ?” 

“Yes…” she says simply, looking at me with wide eyes, like I was a wounded animal. I guess I was, in some way. I just fucked my biggest competitor’s daughter. 

“So, you work for your father.” I state bitterly.

“I do, but it’s not like that. When I accepted to work for his company we made a deal. He doesn’t meddle in my work and I don’t get special treatment. And he gets to know that I’m safe, working for him.”

“But then…how come you’re adopted?” I ask, confused.

“I was getting there. So, I suppose you also know about my father’s ties with the royal family.” I nod and she continues.

“Sometime in the eighties, my father met this beautiful, young Russian girl, daughter of some diplomat, in one of the trips he made with my grandfather. They fell in love, of course, but they had to keep their relationship a secret, because…”

“Because your father was rumored to be favorite as an heir to the throne and because he was the apparent heir of the company your grandfather created.” I cut her off.

“Yes. Well…after a few years, I happened. When my mother got pregnant the situation in Russia was sketchy, and the news that she was with child, a Belgian socialite being the father, were not doing wonders for my mother’s family. They basically disowned her, but my grandfather took care of her and gave her shelter. My father, however, was soon supposed to announce his engagement with one of the royal family’s princesses. So, they kept everything under wrapped, and nine months later I was born in secret at one of my father’s properties.”

She takes a deep breath, taking a sip from her glass and continues. “My father is a very controlling man, and is always used to get his way. Security is a big deal for him and he’s obsessed with his loved ones being safe…”

“How’s that relevant?” I ask.

“I don’t know…”she murmurs. “I guess it explains his later actions.”

“So, they never got married.” I state.

She shakes her head. “You know they didn’t. He married the princess. I don’t think they even continued being together in any way after I was born. My mother however, I think she never got over him. She married several times after, but I think she’s still deeply in love with him even today.”

“So she married and one of her husbands adopted you?” I ask, getting more confused.

“No. I was adopted by a man named Ray Steele, but he was never married to my mother. I guess they were friends, in a way, but nothing more.”

“You lost me.” I say to her, because this story is getting in the twilight zone more and more.

“Ray was one of my dad’s most trusted security men. He was assigned to look after me and my mom. Because of my mom’s name, and Russian heritage, my father couldn’t risk putting me in harm’s way. And of course I couldn’t take his name because I basically didn’t exist in his life. So, after a few months, Ray offered to give me his name. And I become his daughter.” She says to me, with a proud, loving smile on her face.

“Ray’s great. I’m proud to call him dad. He was always there for me. For a few years, we all lived together, my mom, Ray and me. But, when I was seven, my mom married for the first time. It was an awkward situation for all of us, so I chose to live with Ray. My father was relieved, too.”

“So, let me get this straight. You are part Russian, part French…”

“Belgian” she corrects me, rolling her eyes.

I narrow my eyes at her, but continue “…Belgian. And adopted by a…” I stop myself before saying American, because I’m not supposed to be privy to the information regarding Ray Steele, former military, currently retired, living in Montesano. 

“American” she says. “Yeah…weird, I know.”

“Not at all” I say, mockingly. “So, where have you grown up?”

“All over the place” she says, with a sweeping motion of her hand. “As a matter of security, my dad moved us around a lot. I lived all around Europe. I grew up in the south of France, Monaco and Switzerland. After that there was Spain, Italy and Turkey. And I spent a part of my teenage years in England. Though, when I was 15 my dad decided enough is enough and took me to live with him and his family, at the estate.”

“Wow…” I don’t know what to say…I’m speechless. Suddenly, I remember something. “Wait, so Jose…how is he a part of this?”

“Well, when I was around three years old my father considered that some extra security was necessary. So he hired Jose’s father, at Ray’s recommendation, because they were in the military together. Jose and his family came and lived with us. It was good for my mother, too, because she had another woman around now.”

“Where’s your mother now?” I ask her.

“She’s living somewhere in Greece, with husband number three.“ she says laughing quietly.

“Are you two close?”

“We used to, when I was little. Now, not so much. I don’t blame her, for anything. I know she loves me and I love her back. But I always understood that she had to make a life for herself, too. Try her luck at a new love. I’m happy when she’s happy.” She says, with a forlorn expression. 

“What about your father? Your real father, I mean? Have you seen him often?”

She nods her head. “Yes, whenever he could. Every few months, sometimes weeks, he would come and visit. The visits were brief, though. I never went to visit him. I never got along with his family, even when I was living with him. I suppose his wife always blamed me for his refusal to have any more children.”

I don’t know what to say. I feel overwhelmed with all this information. I’m suddenly glad I didn’t found this all from the background check, because I couldn’t have possibly understood it. At least now, I got to ask questions and she clarified things for me. 

I liked that she answered them truthfully and I started to trust her a little more. But still, her story is amazing. I don’t know how she never got insane considering all this things. And moving from place to place. She must have been so lonely. She couldn’t have made many friends this way.

But then, I never had any friends, either. And I turned out fairly all right. Yeah, right, as if. She was practically deserted by her parents, raised by a stranger. Sure, they provided for her and all, but…I’m suddenly feeling very lucky for meeting Grace and Carrick and I have a new found appreciation for them.

And I still didn’t find about her scars, how she got them, who made them. By the way she talks about her parents; they are certainly not the culprits. She talks about all three of them with such love and affection. She has such a big heart, loving them even though they disappointed her.

The fucker Jose couldn’t be responsible either, I think. She didn’t seem afraid of him the other day, just very annoyed. And she did threaten him to kick his ass, so…

I realize I’ve been zoning out for a while, and I look at her and see that she didn’t take her eyes off me, waiting nervously for my reaction. 

I give her a small smile. I don’t know what to say. 

“So…should I leave now? Did I spook you enough?” she asks, timidly. 

“Why would I feel scared? I don’t care who your family is. It’s not what defines you.” And it’s true. If I were to be judged by who my mother or father were, God help me.

She beams at me and hugs me, all of a sudden. I tense in her embrace, not liking to be touched, even though I know she won’t hurt me.

“Thank you” she says. She must have felt my discomfort, because she pulls away quickly and flushes. “Sorry, I know you don’t like to be touched. I got carried away.”

“It’s okay.” I say with a small, reassuring smile. “It happens.” 

She yawns and stretches. I chuckle, seeing her sleepy face. “Tired?” I ask and she nods.

“Come on then. Bed time for us, baby.” I say, pulling her up and dragging her to the bedroom. I sure hope the nightmares will stay away tonight, too.


	11. Candlelight

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is going to be a fluffy chapter inspired by the big, fat snowflakes outside and by the songs Wicked Games – The Weeknd and Skin – Rihanna. Check them out to set the mood for the chapter ;)
> 
> Warning – smut ahead!

Disclaimer - All the rights to the wonderful world of Fifty Shades Trilogy belongs to E.L. James. I do not own any of the characters from the trilogy. No copyright infringement intended.

Christian’s POV

The next morning, after a rather hot and steamy shower session, Anastasia and I say our goodbyes, each one of us having to go to work, with the promise that we’ll talk later.

I’m feeling ready to face the day and not even the Taiwanese fuckers won’t be able to sour my mood. I don’t want to see Ana go, but I have to be present at the negotiations, and she has to go to the office. It’s amazing how relaxed I feel, despite the fact that we never strayed from vanilla. My tension is all melted away, and even my muscles feel more relaxed. I don’t know why, but suddenly I’m not in such a hurry to go back home.

At about seven thirty I give a call to Taylor, letting him know I’m ready to go at eight. I finish my breakfast, checking the morning news on my tablet and looking over some e-mails from Ros from over the weekend. It seems everything is going smoothly at Grey House, though she’s urging me to close this deal, seeing as with every day that passes, we’re losing more money. 

I get a text from Ana, letting me know she arrived safely at the office and that she’ll be in meetings all day long. She suggests we start communicating via e-mails, explaining how it’s easier for her this way and she’ll respond quicker. 

Fuck,fuck,shit,fuck! I can’t give her my normal e-mail. It will blow my cover. And if she finds out my real name now, everything will go down south. What if she’ll think I seduced her only for finding out about her father’s company? I certainly don’t stoop so low to learn about my competition, but I’m not so thick-skulled to think it won’t seem suspicious that Christian Grey found an unexpected interest in the only daughter of his most important competitor. Or worse. What if she’ll think a little retribution is in order and fuck up my deal with the Taiwanese? I’ll lose a ton of money, sure, but more importantly, I’ll lose my only market entry for Asia. Not to mention my reputation will be dented. Fuck…what have I gotten myself into?

An idea pops in my head and I pick up my phone, calling Welch.

“Sir?” he answers.

“Remember that company we took over last month? The one in Chicago?”

“Yes, sir…” came his confused answer.

“Do you still have access to its old servers?”

“Yes, sir. I still do, but…Is there a problem, sir?”

“Can you set up an e-mail account from those servers?”

“I can…”

“Good. Set one up and send me the details. In the name of Elliott Grey, use the old name of the company in the address. Also, put back up the company’s site. Make sure everything appears to be still working perfectly and there’s no reference of GEH buying it.”

“Of course, sir. But the embargo has ended and the employees have been notified of the new owner. I don’t understand…”

“It doesn’t matter. Just do what you’re told. Send me the e-mail address and password ASAP.” I say to him, pressing the end call button.

I put the phone back in my pocket and rub my temples. This day was supposed to be a good one. Taylor’s brisk knock alerts me it’s time to go. I let him in and make sure I have all the papers I need with me, before we depart.

This fucking day is dragging on and on. I spaced out a couple times during the discussions, remembering little things about Ana. How she plays with her hair when she’s nervous, or how she wriggles in my arms until she finds a comfortable position when we go to sleep, or how she sleeps with her lips slightly parted. Or how the curve of her neck meets her shoulder and how good it feels to bite that spot. How she moans and flushes when she comes. How it feels to have her legs around me when I’m pounding into her. How good it feels to be buried deep inside her…fuck. I don’t know what this woman has done to me, but I can’t seem to stop thinking about her. I’m seriously considering witchcraft.

At around four in the afternoon I find out that there are still some other issues to settle before we can call it a day. Fucking shit. I was ready to bolt from here at five. But the clock strikes six and we haven’t managed to go through half of them. I pull out my phone to let Ana know I’m working late and that it’s not possible to see each other today, telling her my new e-mail address also.

A few minutes later I get a ping, letting me know I have a new e-mail.

From: Anastasia Steele  
To: Elliott Grey  
Subject: That’s too bad…

…because I was looking forward seeing you tonight. I’m so sorry you have to work late. I’m currently relaxing in my bathtub and there’s no one here to keep me company or to help me rinse the suds off my body…

Talk to you later (rather busy with the bubbles),

Anastasia Steele

Chief Contracting Officer, Bouvois Participations du Groupe

I groan at the e-mail and pocket my phone with a long sigh. 

Tuesday goes smoother and by six o’clock I’m done for the day and out the conference room with a spring in my steps. I get in the car and Taylor closes the door for me. I pull out my phone and call Anastasia while I wait to arrive at the hotel.

“Hello?” she answers after the third ring.

“Hello Anastasia. Are you busy?”

“No, I just got home. What’s up?”

I raise my eyebrows at her casual manner. “I was just calling to see if you’re free later tonight. I hope you don’t have any prior engagements.”

“Nope” she says, popping the p. What is she? Five? “I’m all yours, Mr. Grey.”

“That sounds perfect, Miss Steele. So…do you want to meet up later?” I ask her with a sly grin.

“I do. How about you come to my apartment, say, in about an hour? Don’t ruin your appetite before coming, Mr. Grey.” She says in a low voice.

“Don’t you worry about my appetite. See you in an hour, baby.” I say chuckling. Oh, I’m hungry enough. Famished, actually.

Anastasia’s POV

I’m feeling so giddy. I can’t wait to see him. I shocked myself with how much I missed him these days. My body is thrumming with anticipation, tensed so hard that I feel like it might snap at the tiniest movement. I missed his soothing touch so much, to feel his deftly fingers on my skin again, trailing paths of hot, liquid desire. He makes me feel wanton, he awakens me, and his caresses stroke places in my body I never knew existed before.

I decide I have enough time for a quick bath, so I go and fill up the tub. After washing myself, I carefully apply my favorite cinnamon lotion all over my body. I decide on a short, simple black dress and I pull my hair into a bun after brushing it thoroughly, leaving a few tendrils to frame my face and neck.

I go and start dinner, cooking an unpretentious chicken stir-fry. I put my I-pod in the dock, choosing my favorite Ludovico Einaudi playlist, letting the music fill the apartment. I dimmed the lights and even lighted a few candles and, by the time I set up the table, Elliott is here.

“Hey” I greet him at the door, taking the bottle of wine he brought and his jacket. “Come in. I just finished dinner.”

He brings his arms around my waist and kisses me passionately. “Smells amazing. And you smell like cookies.” He tells me, eyes alight with desire.

I give him a shy smile and motion for him to fully enter in the apartment. 

“What did you make?” he asks me.

“Nothing too complicated. Just some chicken stir-fry.”

“I bet it’s amazing. I didn’t know you could cook.”

I shrug. “I love eating home-cooked meals and I live alone, so…” I trail off. 

After I helped Elliott open the bottle of wine, we each took a seat at the table, across one another. He takes a bite and moans. “Mmm…this is heavenly. Better than the food they serve at the hotel.” He praises me.

I blush and push the food around in my plate. “Thank you, but I doubt my cooking skills surpass the ones a five-star chef might have. You give me far too much credit.”

He shakes his head and chuckles. “I’m telling the truth, believe me or not.”

We eat in silence for a moment, enjoying the meal and the music. “So, how are the negotiations going?” I ask him.

He makes a face. “They’re going slow.” He offers reluctantly. 

I raise my eyebrows at him. “With whom are you negotiating?”

“The Taiwanese”.

“Ah…brutal negotiators.”

“Have you dealt with them before?” he asks me, now intrigued.

I nod. “Briefly. They refused further discussing the deal, saying I was a woman, and demanded another representative from my company. Needless to say, that didn’t go so well for them. Are you buying or selling?”

“Buying.”

“So they have the upper-hand for now.”

He nods again, chewing slowly. “Are you having some tips for me, Miss Steele?”

I laugh softly. “I may have, Mr. Grey.” I tease back. “Look, respect is a great deal for them. And if they’re in a higher position, they love some kiss-ass. So, you know, use those. Be a little, good sheep for them right now. You can don your sheep wool later and show them the big, bad wolf.”

He starts laughing, big barks of laughter that reverberates through the apartment and I follow suit. I don’t know why is he laughing, but the image that popped in my head of him in the role of a little good sheep is killing me.

“And if I were to sell?” he asks me after he’s calmed down.

“Then it’s the opposite. And I don’t think you would have any problems dominating their asses.”

He stops chewing and gives me a strange look. “I’m an open book to you, right?” he asks me, grimly.

“Sometimes.” I say shrugging. “Am I not the same for you?” 

He doesn’t say anything, just smiles and continues eating. We finish dinner in silence and he seems deep in thought. I hate it when he closes himself off like that, but I can’t really blame him, seeing how I do just that sometimes.

After we clear the table, we take our wine glasses and go over to the couch. I scoot over to him and he places one hand around my waist. I turn in his embrace and lean my back on the side of his chest, legs stretched in front of me. He snakes his arm around my torso, playing with my hair. I sigh contently, feeling my entire body relax in his presence.

“Tell me about your family.” I say to him.

He tenses and remains quiet for some time. “Not much to say. I have two siblings, one brother and one sister.”

I nod and wait for him to continue. “I’m adopted too” he blurts out. “We all are.” He continues with a sigh.

Wow, that was unexpected. I turn my head slightly and smile at him, lacing my fingers through his.

He takes a sip of his glass, but doesn’t elaborate. I decide I won’t press him, because I know he doesn’t like to share much.

Instead, I get up and take the wine glass from his hand. I climb in his lap, straddling him and cup his face, tilting his head slightly. I give him a slow, sweet kiss, taking my time tasting him.

He gets up, taking me with him. “Where’s the bedroom?” he asks me. I point in the direction, and he starts walking, kissing me again. He presses me tightly against him, his hands cupping my ass, his tongue teasing mine in a scorching dance.

Once in the bedroom, he presses me against the wall, his teeth nipping at my lower lip, his hard cock hitting me in just the right spot, making my insides melt and my limbs burn. He trails kisses along my jaw and neck, nipping and sucking gently and my toes curl and I feel the damp heat spearing between my legs. My core is throbbing with desire and need and I curl my fingers in his hair, tugging gently, gaining a deep groan from him.

He lets me down, making quick work in dropping my dress on the floor. He studies me head to toe, smiling appreciatively. He takes my hand and backtracks to the bed, pushing me on it. He discards his clothes, joining me just in his boxers. 

With a wicked smile on his face, he hooks his fingers into the waistband of his boxers and slides them down, giving me a full view of his hard, long, thick cock. I can’t resist touching it, feeling his hot velvety skin, and he hisses trough his teeth at the contact.

He reaches at the back and unclasps my bra, letting slide down my arms. He kisses me, his hands roaming everywhere over my body. 

His hand glides over one of my thighs, spreading my legs open. He teases me, trailing his fingers over my pussy, and I whimper.

He smiles and takes one of my nipples in his mouth, rolling it on his tongue, biting and sucking it gently. He pushes my panties down and with one finger he presses down on my clit.

I cry out, pure pleasure coursing through my veins.

“Elliott, please…”

He bites down harder on my nipple and starts to trace small circles with his thumb on my clit, one finger sliding inside me. My breathing becomes more ragged, and I moan louder. He curls his finger inside of me and hits that spot, rubbing it gently.

I can feel my orgasm building, my body trembling, my nails digging in his bicep. 

“Please…” I pant. “I want you inside me.”

He looks at me, a feral look in his eyes and licks his lips slowly, his cock twitching against my thigh.

With one quick move he sits astride me, his big, hard cock on my stomach. I reach out and touch it, pumping it a few times, while he finds a condom. 

After he slides the condom on, he leans most of his weight on his elbows, his cock teasing my entrance and gives me a long, deep, sensual kiss.

With one swift thrust he fills me, his length stretching me almost to the point of pain and I moan at the sensation of feeling him. He sets a slow, leisurely rhythm in which he retreats fully, before slamming into me, filling me to the hilt. My hips start rocking and I dig my nails in the skin of his biceps.

“Please…harder, faster.” I plead him, feeling the orgasm building once again.

He slams into me and rolls his hips, hitting once again that spot. He reaches and takes both of my legs, lifting them on his shoulders, angling my body upwards. Once satisfied with the position, he starts a hard, punishing pace, fucking me in earnest.

“Yes, yes, like that…” I moan, crying out. “I’m close…don’t stop…” I continue, whimpering.

He reaches between us and grazes my clit with his thumb, drawing small circles. My orgasm hits me in full force and I cry out, his name falling from my lips in unintelligible gasps.

He pushes into me a few times before he follows me, my name falling from his lips in a harsh groan. 

After we catch our breath, he pushes out of me and discards the condom. We stay on our back, our hands in the middle of the bed, fingers laced together, breathing heavily. I turn my head towards him and he turns his head, looking at me.

“Hi” I say, offering him a full blown grin.

“Hi” he responds, with his own megawatt smile, grey eyes still piercing fire.


	12. Weekend Getaway

Disclaimer - All the rights to the wonderful world of Fifty Shades Trilogy belongs to E.L. James. I do not own any of the characters from the trilogy. No copyright infringement intended.

Christian’s POV

Friday morning rolls in and we still haven’t managed to go much further with the negotiations. To top it all, the Taiwanese requested the weekend off, once again. I know I should feel incredibly angry and irritated with the situation, but I couldn’t care less. The truth is that I was actually looking forward to this weekend and some very much needed alone time with Ana. 

For the rest of the week, we found ourselves slipping into a comfortable routine. Tuesday I went to her apartment, and Wednesday and last night she came to my hotel. I’m actually looking forward for the day to be over so I can see her once again. I never would have thought that, I, Christian Grey, billionaire extraordinaire, would enjoy this seemingly unappealing, boring, domestic existence.

But I can’t get enough of her. She totally bewitched me with her simple, innocent, sweet ways. There’s nowhere else I would like to be at the end of a day and there’s no one I would like to wake up next to each day.

I’m happy. Content. I feel like every piece of the puzzle has fallen in its right place, and in the last two days, nothing seemed to rile me up. I even smiled all day. My nightmares are gone. I sleep well now, full, peaceful nights, free of my usual terrors.

I don’t know if it’s because of Ana or not, but a thing is certain: she made me see the world in a completely different way. 

That’s why, after the Taiwanese made their announcement, a bulb went off in my head. I should take Anastasia somewhere special for the weekend. I started to ponder my options, paying little to no attention to the discussions around the table, only answering in short, curt sentences when prompted.

Suddenly, I remembered about a place Ros and her partner went a few years ago, on one of her few holidays. She talked about it for weeks, after she returned. I excused from the table, leaving the fuckers with their mouths wide open, and dialed Ros. 

“Hi Ros” I say to her after she answers.

“Christian, what’s wrong? Shouldn’t you be in the middle of negotiations now?”

“Yes, but these fuckers requested the weekend off again and I remembered about that place you’ve been a few years back, not far from Paris. I would like to drive there this weekend, I need a change of scenery…”

“Sure, I see. Would you like me to arrange everything for you? It’s not very far from Paris, about a 4-5 hour drive. I already know the place and the owner and I think it’s easier if I make all the arrangements for you.” 

“That would be great. Let them know I need the place from noon tomorrow to Sunday evening.”

“Sure. I’ll email you the details later today.”

“Thanks, Ros.”

“No problem. Have a great weekend.”

I return to the table after I hang up, but I can’t sit still. I wonder if Anastasia will want to go away with me. It’s only for a day, after all. I’m sure it’s not going to be a problem. I wonder what her reaction will be when she’ll see the place. I already know about it, as Ros bombarded me with tons of photos for two weeks after she returned. I must admit it’s a pretty special house and I like that it’s so secluded.

The negotiations were finally done for the week and I could get the fuck out of here. Ros already emailed me with all the details, assuring me everything was ready and waiting for me. I was giddy with anticipation and I couldn’t wait to tell Ana. Once in the car, I told Taylor to step on it to Ana’s apartment.

She finally answered the door, just as I was preparing myself to call her, berating myself for not checking if she was home first.

“Elliott…What…”

I cut her off, taking her face in my hands, giving her a slow, sensual kiss.

“Hi, baby.” I breathed, my forehead resting against hers.

She gave me a shy smile. “Hi, yourself. Come in.” she gestured me in and only now I realized she was in a towel.

I gave her a sly grin. “Did I interrupt your shower?”

“You did.” She answered, biting her lip. I groan and free her bottom lip. 

“Don’t bite that lip, baby. It makes me want to bite it. Hard.”

She blushes and looks at me through her eyelashes. “Come on, we have a shower to finish.” I take her hand and drag her to the bathroom.

After the shower, I put my clothes once again, while Ana air dries her hair. “Hurry up.” I say to her. “You have bags to pack and I’m hungry. I think I’ll order the room service ahead, so it will be waiting for us in the room when we arrive…”

I trail off, seeing her expression. She puts the hairdryer on the counter, slowly, and crosses her arms. “What the hell are you talking about?”

I narrow my eyes at the demanding tone in her voice. “I was going to let you know I have a surprise for you. We’re going away for the weekend.” I say to her with a big grin on my face.

“What???” she shrieks, her nostrils flaring. “What the fuck, Elliott? And you didn’t think of asking me first?”

“Why? Do you have plans?”

“That’s not the point.” She tells me, rubbing her temples. “You have to ask me first. You can’t make decisions for me.”

I look at her, my eyebrows furrowed. “But it’s supposed to be a surprise…”

She looks at me for a long minute, in silence. Finally, she sighs. “Okay. I’ll let it pass this time. But next time you’d better ask me first.” She says, a finger pointing at me.

“Start packing” I retort, swatting her finger away.

Half an hour later, we’re finally out the door, on our way to the hotel. “Why is Taylor driving?” she asks me, all of a sudden.

Shit, fuck, shit. I meet Taylor’s gaze in the rearview mirror and he raises an eyebrow at me. Bastard. “Well…” I begin. “He likes it.” I shrug.

Anastasia snorts, but she doesn’t say anything else, thank God. Crisis averted.

“When are we leaving?” she asks me after dinner, in her usual spot on the couch, her back leaned on the side of my chest.

“Tomorrow morning.”

“Where are we going?”

What’s this? 21 questions? “It’s a surprise…”I answer reluctantly. She throws her hands in the air, like a petulant child.

“You’re frustrating” she spats through her teeth.

“Am I? And what are you going to do about it?” I tease.

She turns around and punches me in the biceps. Hard. I burst out laughing, pinning her wrists with one hand. 

“Quite a left punch you got there, Miss Steele.” I trap her legs with one of mine and in one swift motion I bring her under me, her wrists still bound. 

She pushes her lips in a thin line, and tries to escape. “Get off me” she whines, trashing around. 

“No” I say simply and I push my weight further down, stopping her movements and trap her lips with a deep kiss.

The next morning, after I tried for half an hour to wake Anastasia up and she begrudgingly did so, we took our bags and we were out the door, hand in hand, ready for our weekend. I told Taylor to remain in Paris, not wanting to answer more questions from Anastasia. In the lobby, we stopped at the reception to retrieve the rental’s keys. 

We go into the hotel’s parking garage and move toward the vehicle Taylor rented for me yesterday. 

“What the fuck?” Anastasia asks, stopping in her tracks, gaping like a fish at the R8. “This is your rental? A fucking Audi Spider? Jesus…When you said rental, I was expecting a Renault, or a Peugeot or something like that…but this? Are you mental?”

I put my hands up in front of me, stopping her berating. “Those cars are not safe. This is far more appropriate.”

“Appropriate? How the fuck do you rent an Audi R8? I didn’t even think you could…” 

“Trust me. You can.” I smirk at her.

“Save it.” She says, pointing the fucking finger at me. What the fuck!

“I don’t understand what the big fucking deal is. Why does it matter what rental I chose?” I ask, shoving my hands through my hair.

“It matters to me. You invited me on this trip, but I never thought it’ll be like this. I’ll pay for half of everything.”

“What? That’s not necessary. I make enough.” I snort.

“Again, you’re missing the point. But I’m not getting in that car until you accept me to pay for half or we’ll just change cars.” She says, crossing her arms.

“Anastasia…”I growl. “Stop acting like a child and get in the car. We’re wasting daylight.” I snap, impatient. She just shakes her head at me. 

Fuck, why did I have to meet the most frustrating woman on the planet? How hard is for her to just obey?

“Okay, you’ll pay half the cost of the rental. Happy?” 

She nods her head and gives me a small peck on the lips. “Stop pouting, Mr. Grey. We’re wasting daylight.” She throws over her shoulder, getting in the car. I close my eyes and grip my roots, counting backwards from ten, before getting in the car, also.

“We’re going to Rouen?” she asks me after some time on the road.

I shake my head, but don’t elaborate. She huffs and turns her body towards the window. I take her hand and kiss her knuckles. “Not Rouen, but it’s somewhere in Haute Normandie.” I give her a hint.

She gives me a bright smile and returns to her previous position. I shake my head incredulously and chuckle. The things we do for women.

“Tell me again why you had to blindfold me?” she asks, after we hit the road again after our small break.

“Because we’re getting nearer and I can’t afford to ruin the surprise.”

“Okay” she says, smiling in my general direction.

“Voilà, mademoiselle! We have arrived. You like it?” I ask her as I take her blindfold off. 

She blinks a few times, adjusting her eyes to the light. She looks around for some time, taking it all in. I smile broadly, awaiting her reaction. 

She turns to me then, her nostrils flaring, a thunderous expression on her face. What the fuck did I do now?

She throws her hands in the air. “What the fuck is wrong with you? Why would you bring me here? What is that?” she asks, pointing to the house.

“What the fuck is wrong now? What did I fucked up this time?” I growl, squaring my shoulders, back straight, ready for battle.

“What are you doing?” she shrieks and I widen my eyes, brows furrowed in confusion.

“Are you doing this because I told you about my father? Are you trying to prove something to me?” she asks in a low, menacing voice.

“What? No. Fuck no. I thought you’ll like it…”

“Then what? What is the reason behind all of this? Take the billionaire daughter to a five-class estate to show her you can win a pissing contest? To prove you can meet her high-maintenance requests?” she bellows, taking an offensive stance.

I just gape at her, not knowing what to say, not understanding what the fuck I did wrong.

“That’s what you think of me? That I’m some uptight high-class bitch? That you have to shower me with gifts and luxury to fuck me?” she continues in a low voice.

“No, no, no! This is not what…” I try to stop her, raking my hands through my hair. God, I want to take her over my knee right now. Who does she think she is to put me in this position?

“Then? Answer me!” she hollers at me.

“Anastasia…keep your voice down. And don’t you dare talking to me like that.” I growl through clenched teeth. “Just shut the fuck up and give me some time to explain, before you jump to wrong, unnecessary conclusions.”

She keeps her mouth shut, but narrows her eyes at me. I take a deep breath and calm myself. “I took you here because it’s the only place I could think of on such short notice. And I know about its stellar conditions from a co-worker. She’s been here a few years ago and praised this place for weeks. So now, say thank you, be grateful and stop yelling at me. If you want to leave, say so. Otherwise, please, stop with the nonsense.”

“You make me feel cheap. Did you know that? The only way I’m staying is if I pay half for it, as well.” She says with finality.

I close my eyes and count to ten. With a deep sigh, I respond. “Fine.”

She nods her head and starts stomping towards the house. I sigh again and go to the car and take out the baggage, following her into the house.

Christian’s POV

After I brought the baggage in the house and up in the bedroom, I left Anastasia to her own devices to unpack. I needed some time for myself, to calm down. 

I poured myself a double scotch and took a sit on the couch in the living room, swirling the amber liquid in the glass, gazing through the window overlooking the small village at the bottom of the hill. She frustrated the hell out of me and if I were to see her right now, it would surely take all of my control not to put her over my knee and just get it over with. I don’t understand her reaction. Even if she thought I spent a lot of money on this, which I did, but who’s counting, she shouldn’t have reacted this way. I don’t appreciate being yelled at or belittled. God dammit, I’m Christian fucking Grey. Women don’t yell at me and they surely don’t second guess my choices. My women do what they’re told, no questions asked.

But Anastasia is not one of them, is it? She’s not my submissive, therefore I guess she is somewhat entitled to an opinion. Is this what normal guys’ subject themselves to? Is this what a normal relationship looks like? Disagreements? Compromises? I scoff to myself. I’m glad I’m not a normal guy. No place for love or romantic relationships in my life. Too much work, and isn’t love for fools, as Elena is saying?

But then, how did I handle it? Boy, you’re losing your touch, Grey. If she were just a submissive, she would have been severely punished for what she’s done. But then again, if she were just a submissive, she wouldn’t have been here with me, on a weekend getaway.

Nonetheless, I don’t appreciate how she treated me and of what she accused me. I do believe some retribution is in order. I grin broadly at the thought, already fantasizing about a hundred ways of punishing her.

Two arms snaking around my neck interrupt my inner monologue. “I’m sorry” she says in a small voice, her cheek pressed against me. “I’m really sorry.”

I don’t say anything. I down the rest of the alcohol and take her hand, leading her around the couch and pulling her into my lap. She curls in my lap, head bowed, hands fidgeting with the hem of her t-shirt. So, you do know how to be obedient, Miss Steele.

“It’s just…” she continues after taking a deep breath “once I say who my father is, people treat me differently. I don’t like that…it’s like once they know my father’s name, I’m suddenly more beautiful, more impressive, more everything. They stop seeing the real me. And they all want something from me afterwards. “

I continue with my silence, letting her get it all out. “And, I was hurt when I saw what you’ve done, because, ever since I told you who my family is, I’ve been waiting for you to start acting differently. I’m afraid you’ll stop seeing me, too. You’re the first one for whom my father’s name didn’t matter. I know I was wrong to react in that way and I’m sorry. For what it’s worth, I think it’s a beautiful surprise.”

I kiss her forehead and pat her thigh. “How about some lunch, baby?”

She gives me a big grin and nods. “Would you like anything special, Mr. Grey?”

“No, baby. Whatever you’re making is fine with me.”

After she gives me a small kiss she gets up and goes to the kitchen and starts making lunch.

We eat our lunch in silence, Ana glancing at me from the corner of her eyes, every now and then. Why, Miss Steele. What seems to be the problem? Does my silence make you nervous? Does my sulking make you fidgeting in your seat?

“I have a few phone calls to make, e-mails to respond to.” I say to her, once the lunch is over. She looks at me disappointed, but doesn’t say anything, just nods, taking the dishes into the kitchen.

After about one hour, I think it’s enough. I let her steam enough. I’m ready to teach you some manners, Miss Steele. Let my game begin!

I go over to the bedroom, finding her reading on her tablet in the bed. She stops and looks at me. I cross the threshold, closing the door behind me. I go over to the dresser and calmly begin to remove the things from my pockets and my watch, putting them on the top of the furniture item. 

“You know, Miss Steele. I don’t appreciate being yelled at. You treated me very, very poorly. I put a lot of effort into this surprise and you failed to show me your gratitude. You need someone to teach you good manners.” I say to her, while taking off my shoes, socks, belt and t-shirt. 

“Did you like my surprise?”

She looks at me and gulps. “I…I did. It’s a very b-beautiful place.” She says, in a small, timid voice.

I throw her a boyish smile. “We aim to please, Miss Steele.”

“Come here.” I say, in a firm, authoritative voice, pointing to the spot in front of me. She doesn’t move, looking at me warily. I raise an eyebrow at her and she gets up begrudgingly, sashaying towards me.   
Once in front of me, I grab her ponytail and tilt her head back. I capture her lips in a long kiss, not forcefully, but not gentle, just with the right hint of domination. I continue kissing her for a few minutes, until I can feel her breathing accelerating and her pulse quickening. 

“Take your clothes off.” I command, breaking the kiss. She regards me with black, glazed eyes, but does what she’s told after a second.

“All of them.” I growl, when I see her fidgeting with the bra. 

Once she’s gloriously naked in front of me, I take my Dom stance, back straight, shoulders wide, legs slightly apart and stare down at her. 

“Let me tell you how everything is going to be, Miss Steele. For tonight, you’ll do what I tell you to do, how I say it and when I say it. If you won’t, you’ll have to face some consequences and you don’t want any more of that, right, Miss Steele?” 

She looks at me with a mixture of annoyance, curiosity and disbelief. I raise my eyebrow again, hardening my features. 

“No” she answers with an even voice.

Good. Now we’re talking. “Oh, and you’ll speak when I’ll tell you to speak. Do you understand?” She nods. Oh, Miss Steele, I’m going to have so much fun with you.

My cock twitches in my jeans, but I don’t make any efforts of hiding how much she turns me on. I want her to see it, to understand what my intentions are here. I pull out the blindfold from the back pocket of my jeans and give her a salacious grin. “Turn around.” I say to her. She does and I put the blindfold back in place, deciding to braid her hair, also.

I turn her back to face me and I revel in her beauty. I slowly walk around her and trail my gaze on every part of her body. She starts fidgeting but with a simple command I stop her and continue to appraise her. 

“Spread your legs apart. Wider, wider…” Oh yeah, baby, that’s what I’m talking about. I feel my cock twitching again and I take a second to adjust myself. “Now put your hands on your thighs.” 

She hesitates and shakes her head. “Elliott, I don’t think.”

“No” I state, firmly, gripping her braid with enough force to tilt her head back. “Tonight you don’t think. You just do what you’re told.” I whisper firmly in her ear.

I let go of her hair and she reverts to her previous position, this time placing her hands on her thighs. “Good girl” I murmur, trailing the tip of my fingers over her spine, feeling her shiver.

“Tonight we’re going to experiment with different positions, Anastasia. You’ll not move from a position unless I tell you to. You’ll not touch anything, not me, not yourself, unless I tell you to. Do you understand?” 

She nods. Good girl, she remembers not to speak. Maybe you wouldn’t make such a bad submissive, after all.

I start to slowly trail my fingers on her back, from the top of her shoulders, down her spine to the small of her back and circling her hips. She starts fidgeting and I first think that it’s because I’m directly touching her scars, but when she releases a shaky breath I resume my ministrations. 

I trail my fingers around her collarbone, down to the path between her breasts, brushing the bottom of her breasts, skimming to the sides of them and completely avoiding her nipples. Next, I trace the sides of her neck and chest, applying pressure on the sensible parts. I descend, slowly trailing my fingers up her sides.

I return to her back, dragging my fingers once again over her shoulder blades, down her spine. I crouch down, trailing my fingers over the curve of her ass. I linger at the base of her cheeks, applying pressure there with my thumbs. I cup her ass cheeks with my hands, gently massaging them, before squeezing them, digging my fingernails into her soft skin. I continue dragging just the tip of my fingers down her thighs, bringing them in front, trailing them up until they almost reach her center. I stop touching her then and she whimpers. I can smell her arousal now, and it’s driving me mad with desire, my cock pulsating violently in my jeans. 

I return in front of her, noticing that her hands have increased the grip on her thighs. With a wicked smile I begin to unbutton my jeans. 

“On your knees” I command her. She lowers herself and I free my erection, feeling immediately the relief.

“Open your mouth” I state, pushing the tip of my cock against her lips, to let her know of my intentions. I push myself inside her mouth, not too deep, but enough so that I can feel her velvety warmth. I can see her hands starting to come up and I growl “I didn’t say you can touch me.”

She lowers them immediately and I grip her head with both of my hands, starting to slide in and out of her mouth, going deeper with each thrust, until I reach the back of her throat. Her chin begins to glisten, coated in her saliva and I pull out all the way, stroking myself with one hand, tilting her head with the other, inserting myself once again into her mouth. 

Gripping her head I start fucking her mouth in earnest, going all the way in, until my balls slap against her chin, stopping every now and then to rotate my hips and to pull out my cock and slap it against her cheeks and lips. After some more deep thrusts I feel my cock ready to burst. “I’m coming, Anastasia. Swallow everything I give you, do you understand? I don’t want to see one drop outside of your mouth.” I grunt, just before I explode, drenching her mouth with my cum.

“Good girl.” I say, caressing her head while trying to catch my breath. I take her hand and gently lead her to the bed. 

“Get on the bed. On your knees. Legs spread wide. Hands behind your back.” I say, while picking up my belt from the floor.

I go around the bed, climbing in it from the other side, so I can reach Ana’s back. “I’m going to tie you up. We can’t have any more accidents, am I right?” I say, using my belt to restrain her hands.

I climb down the bed, once satisfied with the binding and go to stand before her once more. “Spread your knees wider. Lean back on them.” I command, helping her to a comfortable angle. “Perfect.” I say, as I watch her glistening, pink folds parting.

I scoot closer and I push my middle finger in her, without warning. She gasps and shudders. I continue fucking her with my finger, until I can feel her walls quivering. Then, I retract my finger just as suddenly as I inserted it. I push my wet finger into her mouth, swirling it around her tongue, to give her a taste of her sweet nectar. I push two fingers inside her next, feeling her wet, warm, soft, juicy interior, grazing her clit with my thumb from time to time. I curl my fingers, starting to slide them in and out, picking up speed and increasing the pressure. It is not long before she comes loudly and wetly all over my hand, but I don’t stop my movements. I continue and I abruptly suck one of her nipples into my mouth, biting them softly, until I feel her coming once again.

“Scoot in the middle of the bed. On your back.” I issue my next round of commands while stroking my now hard cock.

I climb over her and tie the end of the belt to the headboard, making sure her arms are securely stretched. I scoot down and I plant her feet firmly on the mattress, pushing her knees apart. I attack her pussy with my mouth, licking her clean. I push my tongue inside her, lapping at her once again growing wetness, using two fingers to circle her nub. She starts pushing her hips in my face and moaning loudly. I stop and growl. “I didn’t say you can move, Anastasia. Stay. Still.” She whimpers, but does what she’s told.

I resume my actions, this time using my pinkie to gather some of the juices and coat her puckered hole with them. I accelerate my tongue thrusts and pressure while I push my finger inside her ass, sensing the muscle clench in protest. I keep going like this, at a vicious pace, until I feel her shuddering and writhing in pleasure, orgasming once again.

I get up, standing on my knees. I push up her legs until they almost reach the headboard, widening them as far as they can go. I make sure the position is comfortable enough for her and I’m pleased when I don’t feel any quiver in her muscles. She’s quite flexible, not even a lot of my subs could pull this position. I slam into her and start a forceful rhythm, pounding into her with hard, fast, deep thrusts. It’s not long before I can feel her walls quivering again and I follow her over the edge once again.

I release her and I take a few minutes to calm my breath, also. I turn her over, leaving her to lie on her belly. I lift her ass in the air and I drape myself across her back, squeezing roughly her breast with one hand, pinching her nipple. 

I spread her legs apart and I trap each of her calves with my legs, holding them firmly in place. Once I’m satisfied with the position, I begin to tease her pussy with my fingers once again. I begin on the outside, going further and further closer to her clit, brushing it with feather light touches, before retreating quickly. I continue teasing her, driving her mad with my fingers, adding one finger that barely enters her into the process. 

“Have you learned your lesson, Miss Steele? Will you devalue my efforts again? Will you raise your voice at me again?” I say in her ear, taking her lob in my mouth and nibbling at it slightly. “Tell me” I command.

“No…” she whimpers. “No, not again.”

Satisfied with her answer, I attack her nub with my fingers, increasing the pressure, until she comes wetly on my hand again. I don’t let her catch her breath, instead I flop her back down on her back and I enter her fully. 

I keep my thrusts deep, retreating all the way to the tip, before entering all the way to the base of my cock. I increase my pace, gyrating my hips, hitting her g-spot with every thrust. I can feel her walls encompassing me, milking my impending orgasm out of me. I start fucking her faster, going deeper with each thrust until she comes for the final time with a loud cry. I follow her shortly, burying my head between her breasts. 

After a few minutes, I take off her blindfold and untie her, massaging her wrists and making sure I didn’t leave any marks with the restraints. 

“Are you okay, baby?” I ask her, brushing the hair out of her face. She mumbles something unintelligible and turns on her side, falling asleep immediately. I chuckle and kiss her shoulder, feeling damn proud of her stamina.

“Do they hurt?” I ask her, sometime later, after our nap, referring to her scars that I currently trace with my fingers. We’re lying in bed, me on one side facing her, she on her belly, surrounded only by silence, bathed in the setting sun light. 

“No” she says softly. 

“Tell me about them.” I say to her, all of a sudden.

She gets up on her knees, covering with the sheets and looks at me skeptically. She huffs in annoyance. “I don’t want to talk about that. Will you tell me about your scars?” she asks me, one eyebrow raised.

I close my eyes and sigh. “Fair point, well made, Miss Steele.”

“I don’t want to upset you.” She says, scooting closer. “It’s just…I’m not…” she continues, her eyes casted downwards.

“Hey” I tilt her chin up. “I understand. I won’t pressure you.”

She smiles and gives me a small kiss, before scooting next to me, her head in the crook of my neck. “Is this okay?” she asks, sensing that I tensed.

I relax my muscles, blowing some air slowly on my nose. “Yes, yes it is.”


	13. NDAs and Unveiled Secrets

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: This chapter contains graphic depiction of violence, verbal assault and sexual assault. This chapter contains some pretty twisted stuff, dark and heavy. So, reader’s discretion is advised. Those of you that have problems with any of the things depicted, please skip this chapter. Mature audience only, please. All this is part of my story line and creation process, and please respect the warning. Don’t send hate mail over it, as you’ve been properly warned.

NDAs and Unveiled Secrets

Disclaimer - All the rights to the wonderful world of Fifty Shades Trilogy belongs to E.L. James. I do not own any of the characters from the trilogy. No copyright infringement intended.

 

Anastasia’s POV

Monday morning comes way too soon for my liking. Me and Elliott part ways with a long, lingering kiss, both of us regretting to come down from our little heaven and to let the reality crash down upon us. 

The rest of our weekend was just…I don’t think there are appropriate words to describe it. I don’t want to tarnish the memories with such unexceptional entities as words. He was so sweet and thoughtful for the rest of the weekend, attentive to my every need or desire. I like this side of him, also. How many more of them are there? 

I never thought I would be so comfortable around another person. But it is what it is. I feel more comfortable around him than I feel around my own family and friends. I can always feel a kind of connection between us, like an invisible thread that bounds us to each other. And this thread has as many aspects as we do. It can stay loosened as it stays when we find ourselves in our joint comfortable silence, it can be coiled as it is every time our strong personalities collide or it can crackle with buzzing electricity in our more heated moments. 

Despite my current sunny disposition, one thought swivels in the pits of my mind, threatening to sour my good mood. All through morning, Elliott’s words from Saturday evening haunt me. Tell me about your scars. I don’t dare to dwell too much on the fact, but my hands start trembling nonetheless. My anxiety threatens to kick in and my demons plead with me to let them out to play.

I start sweating and my lip is bloody from all the biting. My palms are full of little half-moon shaped marks, my nails digging in them every time my chest constricts, a particularly bad memory sending a painful pang to my heart. 

By lunch, I know I have to do every possible thing there is out there to pull myself from this miserable state. And what worries me the most is the fact that I actually want to tell him. Deep in my heart, I know I have the responsibility to let him know about my past. But that doesn’t make it any easier for me. My throat constricts painfully at the thought of him knowing and I don’t know if I’m going to be able to utter a single word, not to mention a whole sentence.

Plus, I’m really worried of the outcome and of his reaction. I can feel the shadow of my insecurity creep up on me and I fight with all I’ve got to stop it from encompassing me. I’m afraid he’ll be disgusted with me once he’ll know. I’m afraid he’ll reject me or pity me. I’m afraid to let him know how fucked-up I truly am.

The walls start closing around me and I feel I can’t breathe when I realize that once I take that step there’s no way back. If I’m going to let him in, I have to tell him everything. My entire story has to resurface. All of my demons have to be exorcised. 

With sweaty, shaky hands I pick up the phone and dial a familiar number, not taking even one breath until I hear the voice on the other end.

“Hello Anastasia” she greets me.

“I have to tell him everything” I hiss, whimpering in the end.

“Ana…take a deep breath. Calm down and tell me what’s wrong.”

“Sheila…” I whimper her name, like I expect her to come out of the receiver and hug me. I try to calm myself and for a few minutes nothing but my ragged breath fills the silence. “He asked about my scars…”I finally utter the words. “He wants to know.”

Sheila remains quiet for a moment. “Do you want him to know?”

“I…I don’t know.”

“What happened sweetie? Tell me about you two…what have you been up to since the last time we spoke?”

“Not much…we talked and…we saw each other every day last week, except for Monday when he had to work late. We spent the nights together and on Saturday…he surprised me and took me away for the weekend.”

“Whoa…that’s great, sweetie. You made a lot of progress. You let someone in and spent so much time together with another person. That’s great news.”

I scoff to myself. “Yeah…Whatever. Now I’m freaking out because I don’t know if I should tell him about my past or not. I already told him about my family…”

“You did?” comes Sheila shocked answered. “That’s wonderful. See, you already made the first step.”

“This is something else.” I say morosely, closing my eyes.

“It’s different, but it doesn’t mean that it’s necessarily bad. Tell me, what are you afraid of? The fact that you let him in or the fact that you want to tell him?”

“I…I suppose both. I feel like I want to tell him.”

“So you’re freaking out because you became intimate with a person.”

“I’m afraid we’re way past that point…” I snort.

“I meant emotionally…” Sheila admonishes. “You want to tell him which means that you’re becoming intimate with him, that you want to let him in. And it scares you, and it’s perfectly normal for someone with your past.”

“I’m afraid of his reaction. What if he doesn’t want me anymore? What if I’ll disgust him?”

“Ana…we talked about this. Nothing of this is your fault. You’re just a victim…”

I remain quiet, already filling the rest of the lecture in my mind. “I know.” I say, hoping to put a stop to this part.

 

“Look, sweetie. If it helps, look at it as some kind of test, a trial of some sorts. If he doesn’t take it well, then he’s not good for you and you can stop wasting time on him. No matter the outcome, this is good for you. It’s progress. You want to share what happened with someone. “

 

“I suppose it’s easier if I look at it this way. Thanks, Sheila.” I say, letting out a breath of relief. “I just hope I can let it out, you know…form coherent sentences.” I finish, chuckling pathetically.

 

“You will. You’re so strong, Anastasia. You don’t have any idea. Keep me posted, okay sweetie? And remember, I’m just a phone call away. And I’ll always answer.”

 

“I know. Thank you. Talk to you later.” I end the call, before I end up sniffing in tears because of Sheila’s motherly manner.

By mid-afternoon I know I reached my decision. I will follow Sheila’s advice. I have to put a halt to my current state of mind. And in order to calm myself, I have to let him know. I will tell him everything; I have to, for my peace and quiet. And he has a right to know. And he asked. So, brace yourself, Elliott Grey, because tonight, a bomb will be dropped upon you.  
Once my work day is over and I received word from Elliott that he arrived at the hotel, I don’t waste another second before I launch myself in a cab and knock on his door, guns blazing.

“Anastasia…what…” he says, once he sees my determination.

I stroll past him, stopping in the middle of his living room. For all my apparent bravado, my stomach is in knots and I can feel my legs threatening to give up on me. I plop myself on the couch before the room starts to spin. 

“Are you okay?” he asks me, concern marring his face.

I nod and take a deep breath, not trusting myself to speak just yet. I pat the spot next to me on the couch and he takes it, taking my hand in one of his, brushing his thumb over my knuckles. His touch soothes me and with another deep breath I start talking.

“You wanted to know about my scars…” I trail off, waiting for his reaction. His jaw clenches, but his eyes remain soft. He nods once. “Are you sure…this…is pretty fucked up.”

He doesn’t speak, just nods once more, sensing the seriousness of the situation. I kick off my shoes and bring my feet to the couch, hugging my knees with one hand. The other remains in his and I squeeze it once, trying to take strength from him. I put my chin on my knees and stare right ahead. I don’t know if I can utter a single word if I were to look at him. 

“This is hard for me, but, for some reason, I want you to know. Promise me you’ll listen to me until the end and you won’t interrupt me. If you can’t bear to hear any more, just say so and I’ll stop. For good. I don’t know if I can do this one more time…” I finish, sighing and I feel his hand squeezing mine. 

“I never told anybody this story, except to my therapist. My friends and family know what happened, but they never asked more from me and I never offered. Nobody knows the details and I don’t want them to know. It was too hard for me…Oh wait.” I jump from the couch, remembering something.

I return to the couch after rummaging through my office bag. “This is an NDA. It’s a standard non-disclosure agreement…it’s not that I don’t trust you…but with my family being…and my father…” I stutter pathetically. “I have to get you to sign before…before I say anything else. It’s enough you know who my father is. Not many people do, by the way.” He looks at me with wide eyes and an emotion I can’t quite pinpoint is sketched upon his face…amusement maybe. “I’m sorry about it…but it’s standard procedure…” he stops me, raising his hands and shaking his head.

“Stop…say no more. I get it. Trust me, I get it.” He says, producing a pen from his pocket and signing the document. I let out a breath of relief and take the copy from him, letting him have the original, stuffing it deep in my office bag, not even sparing it a second glance, disgusted with myself. I never liked the damn things. 

I resume my previous place on the couch, next to him, hugging my knees tighter. I swallow a few times, trying to gulp the lump in my throat and calm the nerves in my stomach.

“I’m afraid to tell you. I debated with myself since you asked me about the scars on Saturday. I’m afraid because I know you’ll be disgusted once you know just how fucked-up I am. I know you’ll reject me afterwards and you won’t be able to look at me, but for some reason I have to tell you. I want you to know and I don’t know why.” He starts to say something but I cut him off. “Don’t. Please. Just let me talk.”

I take another deep breath, my eyes frozen on a spot on the opposite wall. “Remember when I told you my father took me to live with him at his estate? It was not only us there; his whole family lived there. It’s a huge place, and all the family is congregated there. It’s the center of everything that makes the Bouvois…well…the Bouvois. Anyway, I had problems adjusting to the change, even though Ray was with me, and Jose and his family. I hardly saw them anymore, they had to live in a different section and Ray and Jose’s father had to take their duties more seriously. I felt misplaced, a misfit, I couldn’t seem to get along with the rest of the family. They gave me strange looks, and even though they all were polite enough, I felt that they treated me differently. I wasn’t good enough for them; I wasn’t up to their standards. I never was a part of their ugly world and I never wanted to. It’s all smoke and mirrors, anyway. I never was a true Bouvois, even though I had the blood of one of the heads of the family coursing through my veins.”

“After my first week there, a cousin of mine befriended me. Jacques was the only one that cared about me. We started spending more time together, he included me in his activities, and we sat next to each other at the table, that sort of things. He made me feel better about myself, I started not to care about the other members and I became invisible to them, also. Six months after, his behavior towards me started to change. He became more prying, demanding to know where I’ve been and what I did, with whom. He would get mad at me if I didn’t answer him, he became jealous of Jose. When I confronted him about his behavior, he confessed to me that he liked me, that he thought he was falling for me. I was shocked that someone like him could look at someone like me. He was so handsome, and well-mannered, elegant. He was two years older than me. But I couldn’t see him like that. I mean, I was flattered, but he was my cousin and a part of that world. We just couldn’t be. When I told him that, he got upset and refused to talk with me for two weeks.”

“Looking back now, I think I would have preferred the situation staying that way. One night, after those two weeks, he came to my room. I woke up and he was in bed with me, his hand over my mouth…it was so dark and despite the fact that I couldn’t see who it was and he never uttered a single word, I knew it was him. I could smell him…” A shudder passes through me at the painful memory and I gulp, but continue with my story. I refuse to let my demons stop me now. 

“He started talking after some time, saying awful things to me…how I was just a teasing bitch, how I was right that I wouldn’t be good enough for him and he knew just the way to treat me…Then, he started threatening me, describing all the things he would do to me if I ever told anyone. He said he would make Ray’s and Jose’s lives a nightmare, that nobody would believe me, anyway. It would be my word against his. By the time he finished talking, I was a mess. I was frightened, terrified, and not only because of what he said, but rather because I had no idea who that person was. He wasn’t the Jacques I thought I knew anymore. He never touched me that night…At the time I really thought that it wouldn’t be possible to hurt me more than he did with his words. This continued for a few weeks…he would come up in my room on some nights. And it was terrifying because I never knew when he would come for his little nighttime visit.” I pause, drawing in a long breath, trying to calm my raging heart.

“After a particularly bad night, a night when he was the cruelest and said the meanest things I ever heard, I decided I had to tell someone. My father was supposed to get back from a business trip that day and I spent all morning pacing my bedroom, composing my speech. After he arrived and closed himself in his office, as usual, I gathered my courage and went to him. Only, when I entered, my uncle, my grandfather and Jacques were there. I began stammering, saying I had to talk about something with my father, but he dismissed me, he said he was busy and that we’ll talk later. Jacques saw right through me. That night the…the sexual abuse began…” I stopped, hearing Elliott’s sharp intake of breath. I looked over at him, silently asking if I should continue. He closed his eyes, but nodded at me.

“I’ll spare you the gory details…I don’t want that shit in your head. All you need to know is that it eventually stopped. Ray accidentally entered my room when I was changing one day and he saw my back…needless to say how mad he was when I told him. I really thought he will kill the bastard and I can’t say that I wouldn’t have been happy. Ray went straight to my father and they had an argument…My father was shocked at first, but then he got spitting mad also. I thought the whole estate will collapse that day from the sheer force of their anger.”

“What happened to the fucker? Is he in jail?” Elliott asks with tone of disgust in his voice. I hoped it wasn’t directed at me.

I let a bitter laugh. “No…justice doesn’t apply to people like him. Of course the family couldn’t afford a scandal of that magnitude…so they kept the whole thing quiet. But my father sent him away. I guess you could say he’s in a jail of some sorts. My father keeps him in his most secluded property he owns in Europe, with security 24/7 around. He can’t leave, hell; he can’t make one move without my father finding out.”

“I can’t believe your family never suspected a thing…How come?” Elliott asks, somewhat shocked.

I shrug, averting my eyes, ashamed. “I hid it pretty well, I guess. And he was always careful not to let marks where I couldn’t hide them. Ray and Jose noticed a difference in my behavior, but when they asked me I told them I wasn’t taking the change in my life very well…they just thought I was unhappy about the whole living arrangement.”

A long stretch of silence passes and I don’t dare look over at Elliott, too afraid of what I could find in his eyes. I can feel the coppery taste of blood on my tongue and I release my bottom lip.

Elliott clears his throat and says “You still didn’t explain the scars…how you got them I mean.”

I close my eyes, shuddering at the thought of sharing with him my deepest, darkest secret. But, I have come so far…I have to tell him before the walls start to close in on me.

“He used his belt to…if I was lucky he would stop before I started bleeding…if I wasn’t he would use the buckled end and he wouldn’t stop until he draw blood. And if I was really lucky he wouldn’t use any of his toys.” I finished quietly, almost whispering now, trying to hold back my tears. I expected Elliott to ask me to leave, or to puke his guts out by this time, but he surprised me with a question instead.

“Toys?”

I stopped breathing, realizing I let out more than I intended to. I sighed deeply, before speaking again. “Yes…he couldn’t…”I trail off, gesturing to Elliott’s crotch, avoiding his eyes. “So, he used different toys or devices to…to rape me.” I whimper pathetically. “He didn’t always did this…but sometimes he became frustrated because he couldn’t…you know…get aroused and…those were the times he was particularly violent.” I shudder in horror as the memories flood me and I take several short breaths trying to suppress my sudden need to retch.

“Why did you put up with it all? Why did you never tell anyone?”

I snort. “Trust me; I’m not particularly proud of myself. I…I was weak and terrified of him. And I believed him when he kept saying those things about me. That I was nothing, a piece of trash, that I would never be good enough for anyone and that I deserved everything he did to me, that it was more than I warranted….”

I finish talking and only now I realize the stream of tears on my cheeks and that Elliott is holding me, my back to his chest, his fingers drawing circles on my left thigh. I suck in a breath and turn in his embrace, gathering all my remaining courage to look into his eyes. I expected him to regard me with a look of pure disgust, or pity, but neither of those emotions is in his gaze. He looks at me with wide eyes, full of wonder and awe. I furrow my brow, confused about his reaction. I don’t know why he’s looking at me like that.

“If…if you w-want me g-gone now, I understand.” I stammer nervously.

Next thing I know, Elliott buries me in his strong arms, kissing me with all he’s got. His kiss is passionate, but gentle and it contains something else I can’t pinpoint exactly. His taste soothes me and I lose myself in his kiss. He gets up from the couch, cradling me in his embrace, not breaking the kiss and leads me to the bedroom, putting me gently on the bed. He undresses me slowly, kissing every inch of my exposed skin, tenderly touching every part of my body.

He turns me on one side and kisses every inch of my back, like he’s trying to make my scars disappear. Tears pool once again in my eyes and I fully embrace the sensations in my body. I lose myself in him.

He gets undressed, also and buries himself deep in me, moving slowly, letting me enjoy every inch of him. He continues kissing me and my body, licking and nipping at my jaw and neck. His hands roam over my body, caressing it with feather light touches. I think he’s making love to me. I come silently at the thought, shuddering in his hold. He follows me not long after, burying his head in the crook of my neck. He looks at me once he comes down from his high and gives me a small smile. We take our usual sleeping position and he snakes both of his arms around me, holding me tight. I close my eyes, lulling myself to sleep, the thought that I never felt safer in my life than in this moment on my mind.


	14. Christian's Torment

Christian’s POV

I lift my head from the pillow and stretch my neck to glance at the clock. Half an hour past midnight, it reads. I groan inwardly, sinking my head further into the pillow. I can’t sleep. I haven’t been able to close one eye all night. My mind is crawling with thoughts and questions; my brain feels like it’s just a few steps from being fried.

I keep recalling everything Ana told me, I can’t seem to stop remembering all the tiny details. Like, how her breathing changed when a memory hit her, how she kept grasping my hand like it was the only thing that tethered her to the present, or how she kept fighting the tears that threatened to fall, her beautiful eyes glistening in the light, making the gold flecks sparkle even brighter.

I can’t stop the thousand questions from twirling in my head. I want it to stop. I keep closing my eyes, but all I can hear is Ana’s voice speaking the words. Those awful, dreadful, disturbing words that form her story. One question barrels in the pits of my mind, overhauling all the others. Was meeting her a blessing or a curse? 

How can someone hurt a person like Anastasia? How sick is that fucker? How can one do to another human being the things he had done to her? I clench my jaw tight and I make a vow to myself. No matter what, if I’ll ever have the displeasure to meet that fucker, he will not turn his back to me unharmed. And I’ll take great pleasure in hurting him. He deserves it and he will get no mercy from me. It will be just us, one monster to another, and I’ll make sure I’ll prevail.

I turn my head and look at Anastasia. I don’t know how, despite everything that happened to her, she can still keep her sanity. She’s so strong, so much stronger than me. Sure, some pretty horrible things happened to me too, but it could never compare to what she’s been through. For one, I was just a kid, and truth be told I don’t exactly remember what happened. My nightmares are full of a faceless person coming to get me, I remember the pain I felt when he would burn me, the awful smell of him and his cigarettes. I am grateful I was able to block the memories, I am grateful I can’t remember the extent of my abuse. I was too young. But, Anastasia surely remembers everything. So much better than I ever could. Her nightmares are darker than mine.

She is sleeping now, her long eyelashes fawning over her cheeks, her beautiful lips slightly parted. She looks so innocent and peaceful. My sweet Anastasia. He did not manage to break her completely. And I am immensely thankful he could not erase her innocence, her sweetness, her humanity.

I don’t know why she chose to tell me about her past. Maybe she felt sharing it with a kindred spirit, maybe she felt that by telling me she could exorcise some of her demons. She thought I would be disgusted with her. I could never be disgusted with her; I am in awe with her. She’s been through so much shit and, yet, she prevailed in the end. She took all the bad stuff and turned them around. She became a better person because of them. She truly has a unique view of the world.

I can’t look at her with pity either, because of the same reasons. She cannot be pitied, seeing as she managed to turn into a successful woman. And I know what pity does to you. I know how it clenches your soul, how it makes your stomach turn. Every piteous look makes you more disgusted with yourself.

How could her father leave her like that? Why did he take her to live with him, if he continued to ignore her? He failed to protect her. He failed to keep his own daughter safe. He failed in his duties as a father. He took her away from the life she knew, took away the people she felt safe around. He drove her straight into the devil’s arms.

Because of her father she met that fucker. I don’t understand how she doesn’t blame him, for everything that happened to her. She is a much better person than I could ever be. God knows, I blame my mother every second of every day,

And that fucker…my blood boils recalling how she said he befriended her. He made her trust him and then he hurt her. I understand now why she has such trust issues. I grit my teeth and renew once again my vow. I will hurt that fucker so bad. If I would believe in divinity, I would pray to meet him someday. I sure hope he won’t get in my path, if he values his pathetic life.

He played with her head, saying how he wanted her, how he felt like he was falling for her. As if a monster like me or him would be capable of love. How could she think she didn’t deserve his love? Any man that would have Ana in his life would be a lucky son of a bitch.

A shudder runs through me and the temperature drops in the room when I think about what he has done to her. How he abused her for his own twisted pleasure. I understand completely how terrified she must have been, hearing him say all those words. And I have a feeling that, out of all his threats, the one about him hurting Ray or Jose made her to stay silent. 

Sure, she tried to tell her father about the fucker and it only made things worse for her. My blood boils once again when I think about her father. I have half a mind to start a war with him, but the thought that this would hurt Anastasia is the only thing stopping me. He dismissed her; he didn’t even bother to listen to her. If I would have a child, I would never treat him like that and nothing would be more important than him. I would never neglect him, as the crack whore did with me. Not that I would ever be able to be a father, I snort. 

Tears prickle my eyes when I think about what the fucker did next to her. I’m surprised by my reaction; I never would have thought I’m capable of such emotions. I am sure it’s only because I can relate to Anastasia’s story. 

He abused her sexually. Using toys. I almost laugh at the thought that the fucker is not able to get an erection. Serves him right. But he vented his frustration on Anastasia and only for that I would kill him. Shit, does that mean that she…No, it can’t be. She said she was inexperienced, but…Fuck, if what I think proves to be true, then I am a bigger bastard than I thought. I make a mental note to ask her in the morning. I need to know.

Anastasia turns, her back to me, and bile rises in my throat again, seeing her scars. I can’t stop the mental image of her bound and beaten. He kept going until the blood appeared. And I should know how hard it is to make someone bleed using a belt. It would take many strikes…Fuck! I swallow the gulp in my throat and I rub my eyes. I shall draw his blood, too. Twice the amount he drew from Anastasia.

Did seeing those scars on her back make the fucker proud? Did he enjoy causing her that kind of pain? Of course he did. 

He needs to be punished. And what her father is doing is not cruel enough. Completely useless, once again. There is a special kind of punishment reserved for monsters like Jacques. And it takes another monster to apply it. I would give everything I own for a few hours with him in a room, alone. 

She was lucky Ray entered her room when he did. He put a stop to all of it. He protected her better than her own father. Bouvois doesn’t even deserve to be called her father, in my opinion. He should not have the honor.

But for how long did everything last? For how long did she endure the abuse? How broken was she when everything stopped? I do the math in my head and I realize it must have lasted for…about two years. Fuck!

I sigh deeply, arranging the sheets around me and Anastasia. I make sure she’s covered completely. God, she’s so beautiful. How could the fucker say those things to her? That she was a piece of trash; that he treated her how she deserved. She’s the most amazing person I ever met. I truly hope she never believed him. She was not weak. She was just so young, a victim. He was older, he should have known better.

I could never treat her like that, I could never hurt her. I could never be disgusted by her. I could never be disappointed with her. 

When she finished talking, all I could feel was awe for the wonderful creature before me. I needed to make her see just how great she was. I needed to worship her body like she deserves. I needed to erase all her pain. I needed to kiss every one of her scars; I needed to make them disappear. I felt like the luckiest son of a bitch on the planet when I made love to her and if I would have the chance, I would spend the eternity making her feel like that again. I needed to connect with her and, as I’m not capable of expressing my feelings, because I don’t do emotions, I showed her in the only way I know how. Sex is my solely form of communication. God, how I fucked her before. I’m truly disgusted with myself. I saw her scars and I knew something horrible must have happened to her, but that didn’t stop me from treating her like a blow-up doll. And that proves just what a cold-hearted bastard I am. How could I treat her like that? She’s not like the women I usually fuck. She could never be one of them.

Fuck, I am no better than the fucker Jacques, am I? I’m a monster, just like him. Sure, what I do to women is consensual, but it’s no different. I could never treat a woman like he treated Ana, I could never touch a woman against her will and I never could beat a woman to a pulp, but I am just a sadistic son of a bitch, just like him. I am a different kind and that’s the only difference between us.

She can never know what a monster I truly am. She’s better without me. She deserves so much more than I can offer her. I could never see her as a submissive and sure as hell I would never hurt her, I would never cause her pain. She needs to stay away from me. I could never be worthy of her, of an angel like her. There is no path to redemption for me. I sank too low for that.

All this reinforces my decision to keep my identity a secret. I will play my part until one of us has to leave. And after that, I will keep my distance, because I have nothing to offer her, but pain. I am just another monster, another creature of the night, another outcast. She can never know the extent of my depravity. I could never stand the horror in her gaze if she were to know my secrets. I should let her go already, but as the egoistical bastard I am I want to bask in her light for a few more days. 

As I look out the window, I see that the sun has come up. I look over at Anastasia, who’s beginning to stir, the light caressing her beautiful skin. My angel, my light, my hope. 

“Good morning, baby.” I smile, seeing her beautiful eyes open.

She gives me a lazy smile and stretches languidly. “Good morning.”

“Hungry?” I ask. 

She stifles a yawn and nods. I kiss her temple and urge her to take a shower while I order some breakfast.

Once we’re both showered and dressed, we go over to the table in the other room to start our breakfast. 

“Why did you choose WSU for university? I mean, you could have probably attended any school here in Europe.” I ask her.

She shrugs and finishes chewing her food before answering. “I needed change. And Ray left my father’s service after the whole…he returned to his hometown. And I followed him. I wanted to be near him, so I chose WSU.”

I nod, understanding her need to be close to the single person that protected her all her life. “Did Jose follow you?” I ask, trying to prevent the jealousy from seeping in my voice.

“No. He…he left for the army. He wanted to be able to protect me better…so he chose to enroll. He wanted to follow in his father’s footsteps. I never agreed with any of this. I always felt like because of me he was unable to follow his dream of being a photographer. What happened to me shouldn’t have changed anything for anyone, but it did.”

“He chose to go into army. It was his call to make.” I counter.

“Yes, but I was the most important factor in that decision.”

“What about your mother?” I ask, trying to change the subject.

“What about her? She tried to make me go to her, but I was having none of that. I’m not very close to my family anymore, except for Ray.”

“They make me feel strange. They always look at me with guilt and pity and I can’t stand it. They blame themselves for what happened and…that’s just not what I need from them.” She continues, on her own accord. I nod, understanding exactly what it’s like. After all, I’m not close to my family, either.

“And Ray doesn’t make you feel like that?”

She gives a bitter laugh. “I’m sure he feels the same, he’s just better at hiding it. And he’s more of an action man, anyway. Therefore, he deemed that his way of helping me was to teach me some self-defense, how to shoot, this type of things. After a while, I found the physical exertion beneficial, so I continued. I learned Krav Maga, I practiced yoga, I started running. I still do some of them, when I feel the need. It’s relaxing me.”

“Krav Maga, huh?” I smirk. “I’m more of a kickboxer, myself.”

She giggles and the sound is like music to my ears. “Yeah…Krav Maga is not very manly. I even started taking a few classes of mixed martial arts in my senior year. That was fun.”

I raise my eyebrows and chuckle. She gives me a mock glare and a shrug, “What? It’s very therapeutic punching someone.”

We start laughing, not being able to stop for a few minutes. “So…did you and Jose ever…?” I ask, once we’ve both regained out breath.

“No” she says vehemently. “There was never another…” she stops abruptly and looks at me, panic in her eyes.

I can feel the color draining from my face, my deepest fear proving a reality. “So, you mean I’m the only one that touched you?”

“Yes” she answers simply, raising her chin.

“So…you were like…a…v-v-virgin?” I sputter the word, not believing what she’s telling me.

She shrugs nonchalantly, like is no big deal. “You can hardly call me a virgin. Sure, I was never touched in that way by a man, but I’m hardly innocent.”

I raise from the table, knocking over the chair I was sitting in, and begin to pace the room. “So…you have never been fucked. I mean really fucked, without toys or shit.” I ask her, gripping the roots of my hair.

She stands, also and comes to me. She grabs my hands and pulls them out of my hair, holding them in their own. “Yes” she says simply. “Stop panicking. What’s done is done. I never felt attracted to another man before, so…it’s not a big deal.”

I gape at her. She can’t understand. She let me, a monster, touch her for the first time in that way. And I wasn’t even gentle. Bile rises in my throat and I gulp. “Not a big deal?” I sputter.

“Stop it” she hisses.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” I hiss back, feeling the anger creep in.

“It’s not like you don’t have you own secrets.”

I don’t know what to say to that. She’s right, completely right. And she can never know my secrets.

“Anastasia…” I begin responding, but she cuts me off.

“Don’t. Don’t feel obligated to tell me just because I told you. You don’t owe me anything. We made a deal and I chose to break it. That’s on me. You don’t have to say anything.” She finishes talking with a sweet smile on her face.

I find myself unable to respond to something she said, again. If I thought before I could never deserve her, now I’m sure of it. She’s too wonderful for someone like me.

“Come on, we should get ready. We have to leave to work soon.” She says, disappearing into the bathroom to wash her teeth. God must really hate me if he sent me a woman like that, now. Our relationship is impossible. Maybe if we met in another time, another place, then maybe we would be able to be together. But now... I am too much of a beast for her.


	15. Our Spot

Christian’s POV

On Wednesday afternoon I hear some good news, all of us agreeing to cut short the day and leave the conference room early. The negotiations went better this week and I think the deal is going to be signed soon. The French have already agreed to sell their shares to me, but the Germans need some more convincing. Nonetheless, I’ll get full control over the company. I’m sure of it. After all, I always get what I want.

I ring Ana on my way to the car, but she’s not picking up. Well, she must be still working. We’re almost close to the hotel when I receive a text from her.

Meet me in the park at our spot in one hour , the text says. What the hell? I furrow my brow at the demanding tone she used with me. It doesn’t matter, of course I’ll still show up, but she should have at least asked. And what does she mean by our spot? Does she refer to the pond? A small smile tugs the corner of my mouth at the thought. Our spot. I almost sigh like a lovesick puppy. Pull it together, Grey. Don’t be an idiot.

I go up to the penthouse and head straight for the shower. Ten minutes later I emerge, freshly shaven and with my hair dried. I quickly get dressed and I pack an overnight bag, also, in case we stay over at Ana’s apartment tonight. I smirk at my choice of tie for tomorrow. It’s the grey one, the one I used it on Ana our first night together. I clench my jaw at the memory. Instead of turning me on, it disgusts me, because of how I treated her. I should have been gentler with her. I fucked her like a whore.

I push the thoughts away and exit the penthouse. I pass by Taylor’s room and get the car keys from him, letting him know I won’t need him for the rest of the evening and that I’ll probably stay at Anastasia’s tonight. I warn him to keep his phone close, though, in case I’ll need him.

It takes me twenty more minutes to drive and park the car and I’m almost late. I hate being late. I hasten my pace through the park and over the grass, to the pond. My heart stops for a minute when I reach our spot and see her. My light. She’s so beautiful, looking over the pond, feeding the ducks, as per usual.

I see that she prepared a small picnic for us. There’s a food basket and a bottle of wine cooling next to it, both settled on a baby blue soft blanket. She’s humming slightly, her back to me, swaying a little. I approach her quietly, wanting to surprise her, but when I’m only a few steps away she starts giggling.

“Can’t stay away, huh?” she says, her back still to me. At first I think she’s talking to the duck she’s currently feeding, but she turns her head and looks straight at me, a breathtaking smile dancing on her lips. “You’re late.” she states next.

“Only by two minutes. Lot of traffic.” I respond sullenly. I fucking hate being late.

She nods her head and makes a small approval noise. She’s so fucking cute. I plop myself next to her and pull her under me in one swift move, kissing her passionately. She giggles when I pull away, her eyes sparkling. 

“Miss me?” she asks teasingly.

I narrow my eyes at her in a mock glare and groan menacingly. She flicks some bread at me and starts laughing. 

“I thought we should have a picnic. It’s a nice evening and we still have a couple of hours of light left.” She says next, a small smile still playing on her lips.

I nod and start to rummage through the contents of the basket, pulling them out on the blanket. I open the bottle of wine and pour some in the glasses, offering one of them to Ana.

“Thank you, Mr. Grey.”

“My pleasure, Miss Steele.”

“How was your day?”

“Good. Better than the other ones. The negotiations are going well.”

“So, that means that the papers will be signed soon.”

“I sure hope so…” I snort, but stop when I see the small sad smile on her face. “Ana…”

“My day was fine, too. I had to deal with a couple of idiots who can’t do their jobs right, but nothing out of the ordinary.” She continues, dismissing the other subject.

I clench my jaw, furious that some fuckers decided to upset my sweet Ana. Knowing her, though, she must have put them in their rightful places in no time.

“How are the things at the company going? Have you managed to turn it around or not?” I ask her.

“Yes, it’s almost done. I already decided that it’s a good addition to the BPG portfolio.”

“And what are you planning to do next?” I ask between bites.

She swallows before responding. “I don’t know. I’ll go wherever I’m needed next. I think I heard my father mentioning a company in New York.”

I raise my eyebrows. “I didn’t know BPG was interested on entering the American market.” This could prove to be a problem. If the company comes to USA, then it would prove to be a threat to GEH. Bouvois could become an even bigger competitor than it is.

“It’s not. I don’t know why he’s interested in acquiring that particularly company but he’s not looking to invest on the American market.”

I drop the subject, not knowing what more to say about it without appearing suspicious. She looks at me with wide eyes, clearly trying to stifle a giggle.

“May I know what it is that amuses you, Miss Steele?” I ask, cocking my head to one side, amused by her expression.

“I just realized something…” she says, a fit of giggles bubbling in her throat. I frown, getting annoyed because of her laughing at me.

“Sorry…I’m not laughing at you.” She says, clearing her throat. How does she read my mind like that? “It’s just that…your usual attire when you’re out of the office…”

“What about it?” I ask, now even more confused.

“Well…you know…black jeans, white shirt, black jacket. Everything is in black and white. And your name is Grey…” she says, trying very hard not to laugh.

It’s alright, because I start laughing and I almost choke on my wine. She starts laughing, too and we scare a flock of ducks with our roars.

“You have a very keen eye, Miss Steele, but I can assure you it’s not intentional. They are simply the colors I prefer.”

“So, it’s not some kind of chromatic thing? Like making people remember you by?”

“No, most definitely not.” I snort. “I don’t think anyone pointed it out before, though. I don’t think anyone noticed it before, either.” I say, rubbing my fingers over my bottom lip, trying to remember.

“Right. Because they can’t get past your face.” She says a teasing tone in her voice again.

I chuckle and shake my head. “It’s just a pretty face, baby.”

She smiles and reaches with one hand to caress my jaw line. “I think I figured it out. Why women are so attracted to you, I mean. And it’s not just the pretty face.”

I raise my eyebrows, my hand frozen in mid-air and I quickly put the food down before responding to her. “Oh, really? Please, enlighten me then.”

She narrows her eyes at my teasing tone, but continues. “It’s all about what they see when they look at you. Some of them are attracted to your bad boy act, some of them are attracted to your tormented act. They both want to save you, to teach you how to love them. To nurture you. It’s in our blood, I think.”

I remain silent for a moment, mulling it over in my head. I really don’t give a fuck about why they are attracted to me. I don’t give a shit about any of them. 

“What did you see?” I ask her.

She takes a forlorn look, her eyes glazed over. “Besides a bastard?” she teases with a smile that doesn’t reach her eyes. “Well, I saw a small boy trying to fill up the big pants. I mean, you looked so insecure when you approached me, in total contrast with your whole controlled, powerful demeanor. You looked like it was the first time you were trying to pick up a girl in a bar.”

I give her a big grin. Her eyes widen and she giggles. “Holy hell…it was the first time. Well, of course it was. The women throw themselves at you without you having to lift even one finger, isn’t it?” 

I chuckle, but nod. “I don’t care about them. I’m usually disgusted by their swooning and salivating. Why did you feel attracted to me?”

“Because of your eyes. They seem so cold and emotionless on the surface, but if you look deeper you can see a myriad of things and…feelings.”

I frown again. I don’t know how she can see so much in me. More than I see, even. I wonder if there’s someone else that can see what she sees in me. I don’t think so. Nobody has been able to read me like she does. Nobody has been able to look past the pretty face and the dull eyes.

We finish eating and we put the leftovers in the basket, clearing the blanket. We continue sipping our wine, her head on my shoulder, my arm around her back, looking at the sunset light dancing over the water. We fall in our comfortable silence, both of us just enjoying the moment.

Anastasia’s POV

We sit in silence for a while, finishing the wine. I don’t even manage to put my glass down before his mouth attacks mine. His lips mold around mine, soft and cool from the wine, pulling my bottom lip with his teeth, nipping at it slightly. He plunges his tongue into my mouth, chasing mine, tasting me in long strikes. His kiss sends a surge of desire to my groin and I feel the moistness seeping between my legs, his kiss making me think how much I would like his mouth elsewhere.

I pull away, breathless and look into his eyes. “I think we should move this party back to my apartment, before we shock the poor ducks. Don’t you agree, Mr. Grey?”

He throws me his boyish smile and pulls me up. We pack up everything and exit the park, hand in hand. 

“You drove here?” I ask once we approach the vehicle.

“Yes” he says, pilling everything in the trunk of the SUV.

“Should you be driving? You had more than a glass of wine.” I point out.

He looks at me, his brow furrowed. “I feel fine. And your apartment is just a few blocks away. I don’t usually drink and drive, but now I must make an exception.” He finishes with a husky voice, the double-entendre dripping from his tongue. My breath catches in my throat and I can’t open the car door soon enough.

My phone starts ringing once we enter my apartment and I groan at the caller ID, before answering.

“Hello Kate” I say simply, gesturing Elliott to place our items on the counter.

“Steele” booms my best friend voice. “What the hell? I got a voicemail from Jose saying about you meeting a man. How come you forgot to mention him the last time we spoke? What are you doing together? Is he hot?”

And just like that I’m faced with the Katherine Kavanagh Inquisition. “Kate, I’m sorry. I’ll call you later, I promise. I can’t talk right now.”

“Are you with him?” she whispers.

“Yes.”

“Okay…but you better call me later. You’ve got a lot of beans to spill, Steele.”

“Kate, stop it. It’s nothing serious, okay? And I don’t have to spill anything. You never get what you want from me, anyway, so you should stop trying.”

“You never share anything” she groans. “And now you really have something juicy on your hands…”

“We’ll talk later, okay?”

“Okay,okay. I get it. Bye, Steele.”

“Bye, Kate.”

I end the call and turn towards Elliott, who regards me with amusement, one hip perched against the counter. “Sorry about that. That was the tornado that stands for my friend.” 

He chuckles and cocks his head. “That’s okay.”

“She’s my best friend. We met in college. We shared an apartment together.” I continue rambling, pulling off my shoes, wiggling my toes in relief. I turn around and smash right into his chest. 

“Shall we continue what we’ve started, Miss Steele?” he asks me, in his husky voice.

My only answer is a small whimper and I cross my arms behind his neck. I feel him lifting me up, carrying me to the bedroom, depositing me on the bed.

He hovers over me, his weight on his forearms and starts kissing me. He brushes my hair out of the way and starts kissing my neck, nipping at my pulse line. With one hand he starts unbuttoning my shirt, trailing kisses on every inch of my exposed skin, pulling one of my covered nipples in his mouth and sucking on it gently.

I can feel the haze encompassing me and all I want is to lose myself in him. He continues his path, caressing me with his mouth and fingers, trailing reverentially every curve of my body.

Suddenly, my eyes snap open and I push him off me. He immediately backs off, his chest heaving, and looks at me with wide eyes and a pained expression on his face.

I get up on my knees and push my finger in his face. “Stop it” I hiss. “I know what you’re doing and you need to stop it. I knew you would start treating me differently if I told you about my past. I want you to fuck me, not to make love to me.”

He narrows his eyes and exhales slowly. “I want to treat you right Anastasia. “

“You were doing that already. I’m not made of glass, you know. Don’t touch me like I am.”

“I was trying to fuck you” he says, clenching his jaw.

I roll my eyes. “Sure you were…”

“Did you just roll your eyes at me?” he asks me, in a low voice. Oh, it appears the sex-god Elliott came out to play.

“What if I did?” I ask him, batting my eyelashes and biting my lip.

“It’s rude.” He says in a clipped tone.

“And what are you going to do about it?” I tease.

He pins me to the mattress, blocking any movement from my part with his body. He begins kissing me, plunging his tongue in my mouth forcefully.

I moan, happy to see the true Elliott making an appearance. He undresses me in no time, ripping off my panties. With one hand still keeping my wrists bound he pulls off his shirt, and he uses its sleeves to bind my hands together to the headboard.

He pushes his pants off and his boxers, freeing his magnificent length. My mouth starts producing more saliva seeing his erection. Oh, how I would like to trail my tongue over his length.

He kicks open my legs and settles between them, his cock teasing my entrance. He starts working on my breasts, one nipple in his mouth, the other being tugged by his fingers. I moan loudly, feeling even more wetness coming out from me.

He descends on my body, trailing paths of fire on my stomach with his mouth and tongue. He nuzzles my clit with his nose once he reaches the apex of my thighs and I feel my breath hitching. He attacks my pussy with his mouth, licking me in long strides, sucking on my clit, nibbling on my labia. He doesn’t stop with his punishing rhythm until I cry out, the orgasm making my hips fly off the mattress, my body convulsing violently. 

I don’t even come down from my high when I feel him plunging deep inside me, filling me, stretching me. He starts rocking his hips and I feel his balls slapping my skin with each thrust. He’s filling me to the brim and pulls back entirely, before plunging into me again. He makes my body move up on the mattress with the force of his thrusts. He’s fucking me in earnest and it’s just what I was looking for. I raise my legs and wrap them around his hips, urging him to go deeper with my heels. 

“Open your eyes, Anastasia.” He commands me and I do as he says. The feral, primitive look in his eyes is my undoing and I come once again, hard, clenching my walls around his cock, milking the orgasm out of him. He comes after a few more thrusts, my name falling from his lips in a deep groan.

He pulls out of me and takes me in his arms. I nuzzle into his neck and sigh contently, gripping his arms tighter around me. I look up at him and I trace his eyebrows with a finger, smoothing out the V that formed between them.

“Don’t be mad at me. I don’t want you to treat me any differently, I told you this a thousand times. I needed a fuck now. I…I like you fucking me.”

He says nothing and continues staring at the ceiling, deep in thought. After a while he turns to me and kisses my forehead.

“How about a bath, baby?” he asks, but pulls me to a seating position already.


	16. Goodbye

Thursday morning came and went and Christian found himself with a big weight lifted off his shoulders. The negotiations were finally concluded and the deal has been signed. Furthermore, Christian managed to close the contract with the Germans, too. He had now complete control over the Taiwanese company, as he wished. 

Not all of his wishes came true, though and he knew he was going to leave Paris with a heavy heart, despite his success in the M&A world. It’s done. Three weeks of my life and a lot of work and energy put into this fucking deal and it is done. I wish it would have lasted longer. 

But he knew he couldn’t afford to think like this. There was one more deal he had to conclude today. And he realized it was the most important one, for he did not care for his success in business anymore. What point to all of it, really? 

Pushing his thoughts away he dialed Ros to let her know everything was done and that he would leave France tomorrow morning. Next, he told Taylor to bring the car around. The whole way back to the hotel he was lost in thought, his forehead resting on the tinted window, looking without really seeing the life around him. He sighed deeply, feeling his chest constricting. It was as if the weight from his shoulders transferred on his chest.

At the hotel, he ordered lunch and ate, for the first time in his life not being able to finish everything there was on his plate. The food tasted like cardboard and he felt like he was swallowing only dust. He started packing and putting all his documents in order. He arranged the departure, setting the time of the take-off and went over the flight plan with the pilot. Next, he took care of everything regarding the penthouse and Taylor’s room. He got annoyed with the hotel manager, who wouldn’t stop blabbering about what an honor it has been to have him as a guest and how he hoped he would see him again soon. Fucking ass kissers, money is all you want. 

Four o’clock came and found Christian lost in thought. He poured himself a glass of scotch, which he downed in a matter of seconds. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and grimaced as the fiery liquid settled in his stomach. He poured himself another glass and took a seat near the window, looking over the busy streets without really seeing, once again.

He wished they would have met under different circumstances. Maybe if he wouldn’t have been fifty shades of fucked-up they would have stood a chance. Christian never wished for someone to share his life with, but now he indulged himself in fantasizing how it would be like to have Anastasia next to him for the rest of his life. For the first time ever, Christian felt lonely. He actually dreaded going back to his house in the sky. He found it cold and isolated now. He did not wish to go back to his solitary confinement.

He kept recalling every moment spent with Anastasia and he could swear he could smell her scent and feel her presence next to him. But, he couldn’t and wouldn’t let her get too close to him. He was a monster, nothing else. She deserved a better man, the best man possible. He could never make her happy, he wouldn’t be able to give her his heart, for he had none to start with. 

Sip by sip, the liquid from his glass went and darkness encompassed the room. He was pulled out of his reverie by the sound of an incoming e-mail. He grabbed his phone to check it, immediately.

From: Anastasia Steele  
To: Elliott Grey  
Subject: Are you…  
…coming to my apartment tonight? I have just arrived myself and I want to start dinner. So…what’s your answer, Mr. Grey? Would you like me to cook anything special?

Anastasia Steele

Chief Contracting Officer, Bouvois Participations du Groupe

He started dialing her number, rather than just replying to the e-mail. He needed to hear her voice. 

“Hello?” she answered.

“Hey baby” he responded, trying to keep his voice even. “I’ll be there in half an hour.”

“Very well. Want something special for dinner?” She repeated the question from the e-mail.

“No, whatever you’re making is fine. Wait…do you know how to make mac and cheese?”

“Sure” she chuckled. “It’ll be ready by the time you arrive.”

“See you later, baby.” He finished the call and put his phone in his pocket.

He grabbed the overnight he packed earlier and went to Taylor’s room to get him. They both drove to Anastasia’s apartment and Christian let his chief of security know what time to pick him up in the morning. Taylor greeted his boss and wished him a good night, assuring him he will deal with the hotel and the baggage in the morning. I think it’s the first time I see the boss sad. What do you know? He’s not a fucking robot. Looks like he got himself quite attached to the little miss.

Christian took the stairs to Ana’s apartment two by two. Once in front of his door he took a moment to recollect himself before knocking. She opened the door and smiled wide when she saw him. But the smile died in seconds, once she saw the expression he was wearing.

“What’s wrong?” she asked, a cautious tone in her voice.

He just shook his head and pushed past her, putting his bag in the bedroom before returning to the kitchen. He found her there, her back to him, pulling the mac and cheese out of the oven. She stopped in her tracks when she saw him leaning against the doorframe. He tried a small smile, but came more as a grimace. She arched an eyebrow and began slicing the meal. 

“I signed the deal today” he said, hoping she missed how his voice cracked towards the end.

She didn’t. She paused in her actions and looked at him, her face impassive, her eyes sad. She quickly recovered, clearing her throat.

“That’s wonderful news.” She said with a false cheer in her tone.

He saw right through her. But he kept playing the game, because what more could they do? “Yes. It was about time. It took me only three weeks to make the bastards sign.” He said next with a teasing tone.

She let out a small laugh that quickly died in her throat and pointed the spatula at him. “I told you the Taiwanese are not to be taken lightly.”

He nodded and grunted some new found injective under his breath. Anastasia put the food on the plates and poured the wine, gesturing Christian to take a sit at the table.

They ate in silence, because what more could they say? They kept looking at each other from time to time, each of them conveying with their eyes the words they couldn’t speak. I’ll miss you. I’m sorry I lied. I’m sorry I have to go first. I wish I could see you again. Someday, maybe. I want to hold you tight and never let you go. I wish I would wake every morning next to you. I don’t want you to leave. I want you to take me with you. I don’t want this to end. I think I love you. 

Christian helped Anastasia to clear the table and wash the dishes. He took her hand then and dragged her to the bedroom, closing the door behind them.

They never uttered a word. The complete silence continued to fill the apartment. They undressed slowly, facing each other. 

Christian put Anastasia on the bed, climbing next to her. He pushed a lock of hair out of her face and kissed her deeply, slowly, sweetly, reverentially. He traced her lips, her mouth and her tongue with feather light strikes, taking his time in tasting her, committing to memory everything about their kisses. 

He broke the kiss and gazed into her eyes, pleading with his eyes. Let me make love to you. She closed her eyes briefly and nodded.

He peppered her face and neck with kisses, nipping at her earlobe and sucking gently on the spot behind her ear that made her quiver. He continued his downward slope, caressing her chest with soft lips. He stroked each one of her arms with supple touches. He reached one of her hard peaks and sucked it gently. 

He stroked the other one with his fingers, molding his breast in his hands, venerating her pale skin. He traced each one of her ribs with his tongue, sucking gently on her protuberances that appeared with each one of her deep inhalations. He kissed and nipped and sucked at her taught stomach, pausing to twirl his tongue in her bellybutton. He kneaded each of her thighs, from the knee to the line that formed when they met her hips. He gave her soft kisses to the spot behind her knees, sucking gently on the supple flesh he found there. 

He continued peppering her with his affections down her calves. He sucked each of her toes in his mouth, tracing them with his tongue and kissing the spot between her toes. He licked and sucked on her fleshy arch and nipped at her heels. He traced the path upwards in the same manner, until he reached the apex of her thighs. He paused there, inhaling her scent, committing to memory one more thing.

He pushed himself up until he reached her lips. He nuzzled her nose and kissed her sweetly, while he settled himself between her legs. He entered her slowly, a hissing noise escaping from his lips as he reached her limit. He stayed like that, buried deep inside her, for long minutes. He continued kissing her, enjoying the way her walls were spasming around him. He started moving his hips, thrusting in her at a leisurely pace. After a while, she met his thrusts and together they set a slow rhythm. I wish I could make love to you every night. I wish I could worship your body every night. I wish I could stay inside you for an eternity. I wish I could touch you.

They both came with silent cries, staying connected for some time afterwards. Christian did not wish to leave her warmth and Anastasia did not wish to feel the emptiness.

They lulled themselves to sleep still in an embrace, Christian gently stroking her head with one hand, while with the other he interlaced their fingers. He did not let go of her hand all night.

They continued to make love the rest of the night. When the other one would stir, the other one would immediately wake up and started kissing the one that moved. By morning, they lost count of how many times Christian buried himself in her, each time with a deep content sigh, like he was finally home after a long time.

Morning came and found the two lovers wide awake. They were facing each other, Anastasia’s hands in Christian’s hair, Christian’s hands caressing every inch of Anastasia’s body. She would briefly close her eyes every time he touched one of her special spots. 

They stayed like this until Christian’s phone beeped, not bothering to shower or eat breakfast. Both of them wanted to keep the scent of the other on them for a bit more time.

“It’s time” Christian broke the still silence.

They both got up and started putting their clothes on, Christian still holding Anastasia’s hand. They exited the apartment and got into the awaiting SUV like this, hand in hand. Not even Taylor dared to broke the sacred silence and just nodded at them. Christian pulled Ana in his lap and she buried her head in the crook of his neck. He brought his hands around her, embracing her tightly. They stayed like this until they arrived at the airport, their heavy breaths mingling, their chest heaving in a synchronized dance.

They stayed in the car until Taylor emptied the trunk and filled the baggage cart. They used this time to look deeply in each other’s eyes and to trace and outline every feature of their faces with their finger pads.

They both heaved a heavy sigh when it was time for them to get out of the car. They entered the airport hand in hand, both of their heads down, their feet dragging along the tiles.

Anastasia led Christian to his terminal, gazing out the window at the jet that awaited him. She raised one eyebrow at him in question. He shrugged.

“Company jet.” He offered as explanation.

She nodded and looked one more time at the contraption that was going to take him away from her. The plane faced the airport and she couldn’t see much beyond its frontal part, but she knew she hated it. She returned her gaze to Christian, giving him a small reassuring smile.

“Anastasia, I wished I…” he started, but was stopped by her finger placed on his lips.

“Don’t. Our deal is done. Signed and sealed. No point for wishes or regrets now.”

“I had a great time.” He offered sheepishly.

“Me too.” She said, her eyes twinkling. “Who knows, Mr. Grey. Maybe one day we will see each other again.”

He laughed uneasily. “Of course. Who knows.” 

They continued staring at each other. Christian was cursing his fate for bringing this woman into his life, now and like this. He cursed himself for not having the balls to tell her the truth. He cursed the fucker that hurt her. He cursed the fucker that hurt him.

Anastasia blessed her fortune for bringing this man into her life. She blessed her destiny for offering her a chance to recovery, for offering her hope for the future. She blessed him for being…him. She blessed him for approaching her in the hotel bar that night. She blessed her luck for meeting him.

“Well…it’s almost time for take-off.” He said, glancing at his watch.

Anastasia nodded and smiled softly at him. He wrapped his arms around her and crushed his mouth to hers in a passionate kiss. They kissed like that for more than five minutes, neither one of them daring to break the connection. They were kissing like there was no tomorrow, they were kissing like they both wanted to steal the other’s soul. They finally broke the kiss and leaned their foreheads against one another, both panting heavily.

Christian cleared his throat and took a step back. Anastasia looked at him with sad eyes and took a step back. They continued their path backwards, not breaking the eye contact, each one of them drinking the other in as much as they still could. They stopped with their arms stretched, their hands still linked. Not one of them dared to break the connection. With heavy sighs, they took another step back until their fingertips were the only parts of their hands touching. They paused again, both fidgeting slightly. They both took the decision to take another step back at the same time and they dropped their arms lamely on the side of their bodies.

They offered each other another sad smile and Christian began his trek to the glass doors, still walking backwards. He waved at her when his back hit the door, opening them. She waved back, keeping her arm up for a little while longer.

Christian winked at her before putting on his sunglasses and turning his back. 

“Laters, baby!” he hollered with a chuckle, despite the weight in his chest, which was threatening to crush him down soon.

Anastasia giggled and hollered back a “Laters!”, despite the piece of her heart that seemed to have been ripped from her chest. She swallowed the lump in her throat and pushed back the tears that threated to fall. She spun on her heels and with an absolute pace she started her trek towards the exit.


End file.
